Love Is As Difficult As Warfare NEW VERSION
by mel-loves-rocklee
Summary: When Klink's name pops up on the Gestapo's list of men for surveillance, Hogan finds himself in awkward situation in which he expiriences something that he would have never thought he ever would. SLASH Hogan/Klink! Do not read if you do not like xD !
1. Chapter 1

**Okaayy people, here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoy it xD But there are a few things I would like to point out, the first being there may not be some historical accuracy in some aspects, but its not major, secondly, during this fanfic you may get the feeling that we don't like certain characters, it is not this at all, it is simply because we needed to use characters for certain parts to pull it all together LOL, but we love everyone, so don't worry xD Also this is sort of going to be a particularly long story, and does indeed have detail and a plot in a way, just to make it more epic. But I promise you, there are niceee juicy bits LOL, and the more detail the better right? xD ! The characters may seem in character or not in character in some bits, but it's just how the fanfic has to work okay, so please don't leave things saying errr this is out of character, because yeh it's not going to be perfect LOL. ALSO just a reminder, if you don't like this pairing, don't bother reading or even reviewing okay ^_^ BUT if you are liking this story, please DO leave a review, this is what me and my sister live for :D tell me what you think, and the next chapter will be posted up VERY soon after your wonderful opinions xD **

Colonel Robert E. Hogan sat comfortably in his office, his eyes dedicated to a yellow-tinted piece of paper, inked in cursive black handwriting. He had already finished reading the somewhat neat scripture, but his eyes continued to gaze upon it, trying to make sense of it. Well, it made perfect sense; there was no doubt about that. It was the reality of it all that Colonel Hogan was finding hard to take in. He guessed that was to be expected, for his mind had been so caught up with blowing up German ammunition dumps and secret experiment plants that he had almost forgotten all about his family back in Bridgeport, Connecticut.

Almost.

His mother had just passed away – well, she had passed away four weeks ago now, but Hogan had only gotten his letter today. At seventy-nine. Her body riddled with cancer, according to his uncle's letter. Apparently she'd been battling against it for the past three years, but this was news to Hogan. None of the letters his mother had sent during his time at Stalag 13 contained hints of her struggle. Thought he had other things to worry about, probably.

Still, Hogan wished he'd known. Then it wouldn't have hit him with such a shock.

He tucked his letter away, deep in his draw. Now wasn't the time to be emotional.

His mother had lived a happy life. She was so proud of Colonel Hogan, serving his country with such honour.

If only he had gotten to see her one last time.

'Colonel?'

Hogan jumped, the sudden creaking of his office door startling him. Trying his best to wipe the wetness from beneath his eyes without gaining notice, the American Colonel rose from his wobbly-excuse-of-a chair.

'Yeah come in Carter. What's the word?'

'Kinch is decoding the message right now, Colonel,' said Carter, eyeing the Colonel with unmasked concern. 'Hey, is everything alright, Colonel?'

''Course it is,' said Hogan, 'why wouldn't it be?'

'Oh uh, I dunno,' Carter shrugged, now doubtful to his own suspicions, 'forget I asked.'

Hogan followed Carter's lead out of his office, across their barracks and down through the tunnel, hidden beneath a set of bunk beds. Grieving over the news of his mother's passing had to be left for later. For now, he had work to do.

'Have you decoded the message, Kinch?' Hogan asked, peering down at the black sergeant.

'Sure have Colonel,' answered Kinch, 'London says you're to meet an undercover agent tonight at 23:00 hundred hours. The agent has some urgent information.'

'Urgent information?' Hogan frowned. 'So urgent that they couldn't message London themselves?'

'Apparently it's got more to do with our welfare than London's, Colonel,' said Corporal Newkirk, leant up against the cool wall of dirt, puffing a cigarette. Hogan face faulted, digging his hands deep into his bomber jacket's pockets.

'Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?'

'We'd better get back up to the barracks, Colonel,' said LeBeau.

'Yeah, we don't wanna miss roll call,' said Kinch, shutting off his radio. Hogan nodded in agreement.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

For Hogan, that day had been the longest to memory. Although nothing of great excitement happened, he wished it had – anything to keep his mind from his passing mother. He couldn't tell the others; no, they didn't need to know. He didn't need their sympathy, for sympathy would only add to his already unstable emotions. Why couldn't that rendezvous with the agent be arranged for earlier that day? Why so late that night? At least then, Hogan would have something to occupy his mind. Even worse so, he had the horrid suspicion that both Kommandant Klink and Sergeant Schultz knew of his loss (well, they obviously knew, having read everyone's letters before hand). He spent most of the day trying to avoid them, for they were giving him funny facial expressions that Hogan could only guess to be sympathetic gestures. They were scary-looking, if anything.

He couldn't be so selfish. There was a war on! He had other priorities; he couldn't grieve now!

Finally, late evening arrived. If anything, the knowledge of his mother's death paid him some advantage; there wouldn't be any random barracks inspections that night, he was sure of it. If Klink knew him as well as he thought he did, he'd know Hogan was better left alone in such a time.

So around five to eleven, Hogan snuck through the emergency exit, dressed in black. He was accompanied by Carter and Newkirk, who too were covered from head to toe in black clothing.

'See anything yet, Colonel?' Carter whispered, almost tripping on an upturned tree root.

'Not yet, but we've still got three minutes to spare. He should be along soon.'

'Any idea on _who _this agent is?' Newkirk asked. 'Just a civilian or what?'

'No idea,' Hogan shrugged, 'but if they have direct contact with London Headquarters, then they're probably important. Shhh, hear that?'

There, among the thicket was the silhouette of a hooded figure, waving for them to approach. Their guns at the ready, Hogan, Newkirk and Carter crept forward, beneath the high, pale moon.

'The moon is bright tonight,' said the silhouette, in a feminine whisper.

'Only bright if the clouds don't suffocate it,' said Hogan, cautiously, 'perfect flying weather.'

'Bears don't fly, they walk,' she answered.

'But eagles fly.'

'Only if their wings aren't clipped.'

'Okay that's the recognition code,' said Hogan, in an air of relief. 'So you're the agent?'

'We can't talk here,' said the hooded woman, the moon's light revealing her black hair. 'Is there somewhere safe we can go?'

'We'll talk in the tunnel,' said Hogan, swivelling around. 'Come on, quickly.'

So Hogan, Newkirk and Carter led the agent back through the emergency tunnel, carefully taking watch to the spotlights. Once in the safety of the tunnel, the agent removed her hood, her keen pale eyes meeting Hogan's.

'So, what do you have for us?' he asked, his arms crossed.

'Information,' said the woman, firmly. 'Information I have obtained. I am an apparent Gestapo field agent – a British spy. And I am aware of how important your operation is here, under the order of one Kommandant Wilhelm Klink.'

'Klink?' Hogan frowned.

'What's that old duffer got to do with it?' Newkirk asked, cigarette between his fingers.

'That's why I have come here tonight,' said the agent, 'I'm not sure how much you have heard, being confined to this prison camp and all, about the other camps set up in Germany.'

'Other camps?' Carter blinked, apparently dumbfounded. 'For what?'

'For people who don't, shall we say, _live up to _the Fuhrer's _standards_.'

'You mean the Jewish?' Hogan asked, eyebrows narrowed.

'For this account, I am not speaking of those particular concentration camps, no.'

Hogan had only heard rumours involving concentration camps and the sorts of people who were sent there, and in a way, let himself believe that they _were _only rumours. But, he knew beneath it all, there was probably a disgusting, horrible truth.

'They send people to concentration camps for being _Jewish_?' Carter questioned.

'Well from what I heard, they don't just _send _them there,' said LeBeau, in an awe of disgust.

'I can't discuss anything regarding that,' said the agent, exhaling a worn breath. 'All I can say is, the SS aren't just rounding up the Jews. They have their eyes on various other categories of people, too.'

'Such as?' Newkirk flicked the ash from his cigarette.

'That I can't discuss either.'

'Then what _can _you discuss?' Hogan asked, slightly impatient.

'The Gestapo have a list of suspects,' said the woman, 'your Kommandant's name is nearing the top.'

'What's he being accused of?' asked Kinch.

'The Fuhrer condemns anyone he believes is associated with ungodly behaviour,' said the agent, taking a breath, 'your Kommandant is fifty years of age, and unmarried?'

'That's Colonel Klink,' said Kinch, through a smile. The agent however wasn't smiling.

'Look, I understand you're an agent,' Hogan began, his impatience growing, 'a spy. Double agent. Whatever you wanna call it. But we're on the good side, remember? You don't have to speak in riddles to us! Just lay it down straight, will you?'

'Homosexuals are considered to be just about as worthy as a Jew, to the Fuhrer' said the agent, taking Hogan and his four men by surprise. 'So, the SS and the Gestapo are rounding them up.'

'What?' Hogan gaped, half snorting with disbelief. '_Homosexuals_?'

'Yes. They're taking a very serious approach to rounding them up, Colonel.'

'Rounding up blimin' queers?' Newkirk face faulted. 'And I was under the impression that they had more _important_ things to do, you know, like win a war?'

'I'm serious, Colonel,' warned the agent, her face stricken with disgust at the humours smirks spread across the faces of Hogan's men. 'Men of all walks of life are being arrested! Officers, soldiers, civilians! Sent to concentration camps! Those who they prove _are _homosexuals are castrated and shot! Those who they suspect, are castrated – lucky if not shot _too_!'

'You're serious?' Hogan frowned, the smirks suddenly wiped clean off of his men's faces.

'Yes,' the woman warned, 'and your Kommandant's name is on the suspect list. Gestapo agents will be sent out to question him within days. If they even _suspect _he's _one of them_, then he'll be sent off and castrated!'

Hogan winced; she couldn't be serious, right? This had to be some kind of joke… The Nazis were _actually _rounding up suspected _homosexuals_? And if that wasn't bad enough – _Klink's_ name was on the list! Klink wasn't a queer, Hogan knew that for a fact.

'But old Klink isn't queer,' said Hogan, his voice hardly making out the words.

'Then why isn't he married? At fifty years of age?' the agent asked.

'Look if you met him, you'd _know _why! And so will the Gestapo! All they have to do is spent ten minutes with him alone!'

'Well, I have warned you,' she said, taking a step back from Hogan. 'I know how important this operation of yours is to the war effort, and I know this operation has only been successful under the ignorant nose of your Colonel Klink.'

'But this seems like a lot of effort, just to protect some lousy kraut,' said Kinch, less sympathetic.

'No, she's right,' said Hogan, sounding half offended towards Kinch's statement. 'We'll never get another Kommandant like Klink. Besides, no man deserves that kind of humiliation, especially him.'

'But Colonel, what are you gonna do?' Newkirk grumbled.

'Yeah, you can't get him married a day before the Gestapo arrives!' said LeBeau. 'It'll look suspicious!'

'Look we'll figure something out,' said Hogan, gesturing for them to calm down. He still couldn't believe his own ears – of all the things Klink could be suspected of! The damned Gestapo had picked the one Klink was defiantly _not_.

'If I hear anything, I'll make contact, somehow,' said the agent.

'Thanks,' said Hogan, with unmasked gratitude. 'We all appreciate the risk you took to be here tonight.'

'It's just my job, Colonel,' said the agent.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

'… A camp… for ruddy queers… Those damned Nazis are barmy,' said Newkirk, upon their journey back through the tunnels and to their barracks. 'What a ruddy waste of time.'

'Well we already knew crazy-eyes was a nut,' said Hogan, 'this just confirms it.'

'When she said that stuff about what they do to them, Colonel, she doesn't mean that…?'

'Look, Carter, I think it's best left,' said Hogan, hushing the younger sergeant.

'The Colonel is right,' said LeBeau, 'the possibilities are just too sickening to think about.'

'Well, I've never met one of _those _before…'

'One of what? A Jew?' Kinch asked, closing up the tunnel entrance.

'No,' Carter swallowed, 'I meant, _one of those_.'

'You mean a queer?' Newkirk sniggered.

'Yeah, _those_.'

'Well just take a look in the mirror, Carter –'

'That's not a very nice thing to say to someone, Newkirk,' Carter frowned, shoving past him.

'Heh, well, you never know,' said Newkirk, climbing into his bunk. 'Old Klink _might _be a –'

'He's not!' said Hogan, with such anger, it silenced the entire barrack. Only now just realising his bizarre outburst, the American Colonel turned away, secretly trying to figure out why Newkirk's comment had pinged against his chest.

'I'm off to bed,' he said, finally. 'Goodnight.'

And with that, his door slammed shut.

'… He didn't seem to happy,' whispered LeBeau, fluffing up his uncomfortable, lumpy straw-stuffed bunk.

'Maybe you offended him, Newkirk –'

'Get out of it,' Newkirk grumbled, wiggling his finger about Carter's face. 'He's been in a funny mood all day, he has.'

'Well maybe he likes Klink,' said Carter, 'as a friend, that is. Maybe he just didn't like the idea of having him sent off to some, mean concentration camp, or something.'

'Or maybe you should just go to bed, Carter,' said Kinch, rolling over.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

Hogan tossed about his bed. It was uncomfortable, that was undeniable, but it wasn't what was keeping him from sleep. No, it was the recent warning that double agent had bestowed upon him that was keeping him awake. He always tried to keep emotions out of war, but the news he'd heard tonight was too great. A camp, for homosexuals? Where they were to be not only _castrated_, but shot, too? Hogan couldn't help but feel for the poor men, trying to the best of their abilities to mask their obscure lifestyles, knowing that if the SS learnt of this, both their pride and dignity were as good as dead.

He knew homosexuality was wrong. He was repulsed by the mere thought of two men engaging in acts that should only be preformed by a man and woman. Yet, he knew it wasn't right to _kill _because of it. Why, everyone was different. Everyone did something someone else didn't approve of. That was no reason to kill them. But the Nazis were.

And now _Klink _was a listed suspect? _Colonel Klink_? Hogan couldn't help but scoff aloud at the accusation. They couldn't have suspected a man less homosexual than Klink! (Perhaps himself). Just because he was unmarried? Hogan was unmarried! Did that make him an apparent queer as well? Of course not.

Klink was as eager to gain attention from the opposite sex as any straight man was. The only problem was, he was pretty bad at getting it. He was a bit of a loser, Hogan couldn't deny that. Yet no loser should be captured, castrated and _shot_.

Then again, maybe Klink was queer? If someone as toad-like as Burkhalter could be married, why wasn't Klink? He was ten times handsomer than Burkhalter! (Thinner, too).

Hogan shook his head, appalled at his own thoughts. No. Klink wasn't queer. Simple as that.

Once again, Hogan thought of his deceased mother.

_Hogan was in Klink's office, trying to persuade him to wear the floury pink hat his mother always wore. Outraged by the request, Klink tried to dismiss him, but Hogan wouldn't budge._

'_Come on Kommandant, put the hat on!'_

'_Why on earth would I want to wear your mother's hat!' Klink spat. _

_Hogan couldn't help but notice Klink's office looked a lot different. Actually, it wasn't his office at all. There were items and images around them, but the American Colonel's eyes couldn't focus on them. All he could see was his Kommandant, refusing to wear his mother's hat._

'_Please, Kommandant, for me?'_

'_For you! What makes you think I'll put this hat on for you!'_

'_Because you always do everything I ask,' said Hogan, approaching Klink, his hands resting in his leather jacket's pockets. 'Even if you don't know you're doing it.'_

'_I most certainly do not!'_

'_Come on, Kommandant,' Hogan whispered, 'do it for me, and I'll do anything for you.'_

'_Hogan I have no idea what you're blabbering about!' a frustrated Klink snarled, backing away from Hogan's advance. 'You're acting very suspicious!'_

'_I am?'_

'_It's an obvious attempt to escape!'_

'_Who'd wanna escape from here?' Hogan purred. 'Who'd wanna escape from you?'_

_Klink squinted through his monocle, eyebrows narrowed at Hogan's closeness. There was something aching on Hogan's body as he pressed up against the Kommandant – something Klink wasn't oblivious to._

'_Hogan, w-what on earth…?'_

'_Forget the hat, Kommandant,' whispered Hogan, through barely parted lips. 'There's something else I want you to try on…'_

'_W-what's that?'_

'_This…_'

Hogan awoke in a sweat. He sat up in his bed, wiping the wetness from his temples. What on _earth _was that all about? The harder he tried to remember what had happened in the dream, the less he seemed to recall. The only thing he _did _know was something uncomfortable was stiff between his legs.

_Get a grip, you always wake up with that._

So, forcing aside his obscure dreams, Hogan forced himself out of his bunk; there was the sound of Schultz banging about the barracks.

**End of chapter! I hope you are liking it so far xD pleaseeee leave a review! All reviews are accepted, except the flames of course LOL. Please let us know what you think! Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the second chapter nice and early as promised! Hope you enjoyyy it as much as we do xD and pretty please drop a review and let us know what you think :D thank you!**

So, forcing aside his obscure dreams, Hogan forced himself out of his bunk; there was the sound of Schultz banging about the barracks.

'Come on everybody, rouse rouse rouse! Schnell!'

Schutz's booming voice soon cured Hogan's inconvenient problem. He could be thankful for that, if anything. Morning roll call panned out as normal (Klink informing the prisoners of how the war was going – a pack of poorly constructed lies, Hogan knew them to be).

'Colonel,' Newkirk approached Hogan once they were dismissed from Klink's lecture. In an obvious attempt to come across as casual and friendly, the Englander offered Hogan a cigarette. Whether the American took notice of this, Newkirk would never know.

'You, uh, thought up a way to clear old Klinky's name?'

'That I have, dear Newkirk,' said Hogan, 'and I'm on my way now to put this plan into action.'

So with his hands behind his back, Hogan strolled across the yards and up the small staircase, leading into Kommandant Klink's office.

'Good morning, Colonel Hogan,' Hilda's pretty, bubbly face greeted him, filing away. 'Come to annoy Kommandant Klink?'

'Actually, Fraulein Hilda, I've come here on this _fine _summer's day to bother the one and only, beautiful _you_.'

'Flattery will get you no where, mein Colonel,' Hilda battered her black eyelashes, carrying on with her filing.

'Ah, but I can _try._'

'What is it you want with me, then? More of Kommandant Klink's mail?'

'Not exactly,' said Hogan, slowly. Playing with the loose strands of Hilda's white-blonde hair, the Colonel took a seat upon her desk. 'I have a little problem I need you to help me with.'

'And you are suggesting I _help _you with it, _here_, mein Colonel?'

'I, don't think we're referring to the same little problem,' said Hogan, subconsciously glad that his important exterior organs were still responding positively towards members of the opposite sex. 'Klink is the problem.'

'What is wrong with the Kommandant?'

'Now, if I _tell _you something, you'll promise to keep it between you and me?'

'That depends, Colonel.'

'Okay okay, between you, me, and a five new pairs of nylon stockings?'

'Then yes,' Hilda beamed, flirtatiously caressing Hogan's cheek.

And so, without dropping large details (like speaking with a double Gestapo agent, tunnelling out of camp and back, and _why _the Kommandant's safety meant so much), Hogan managed to convince Hilda to admit to all those around her that she was romantically involved with Klink, that the two had been 'together' for two years now.

'And the only reason the both of you aren't married is…?'

'Because my father is away in battle and hasn't given the Kommandant permission,' Hilda repeated, like Hogan had told her. 'Colonel, is all this really necessary?'

'You _have _heard of those camps we discussed, yes?'

'Rumours,' Hilda gazed up at him, unsure of what to make of his reading expression. 'But if you insist this will protect the Kommandant's reputation, then yes, I'll cooperate. I just have one question.'

'Mmm?'

'Does Kommandant Klink know we've been supposedly seeing one another for two years?'

'Not yet, but I've just gotta remind him, that's all,' Hogan winked.

Yes, this should work perfectly! The Gestapo would question Hilda regarding her relationship with Klink, and she would tell him that the two of them had kept their romance quiet, for they were awaiting permission of her battling father to marry! This was honourable enough to believe, even for the Gestapo. The only problem was, convincing Klink he has been in a discreet relationship with Fraulein Hilda for the past two years. How Hogan would pull this one off, even he wasn't sure of.

'Morning, Kommandant!' Hogan announced, barging in into Klink's office (failing to knock, as always). Startled by Hogan's loud, American voice, Klink flinched, knocking over high pile of paperwork.

'Hogan! Must you do this to me, so early in the morning?'

'Do what to you?' (Hogan's subconscious mind winced).

'_This_! Stomp into my office, without knocking, startling me! It isn't very nice of you!'

'Oh, my apologies Kommandant,' said Hogan, helping the balding Kommandant restack his cluster of papers. 'Heh, but by the sounds of it, you've got it pretty easy at the moment, don't you? Sly dog!'

'What nonsense!' Klink grumbled, flicking about his papers. 'This looks like _I've got it easy_ to you, does it? You and your unfunny American jokes… Wait, what did you call me?'

'I said you _sly dog_!'

'What is the meaning of this?' Klink thumped his hand down upon his table. 'I am no sly dog!'

'Yes you are, sir!' Hogan sniggered, his arms folded across his chest. 'Why, you've been seeing Fraulein Hilda all this time and I didn't even know!'

'Hogan, I don't know where you are getting this garbage from, but – wait?' Klink squinted, glaring at Hogan through his round monocle. 'Seeing Fraulein _Hilda_?'

'Yeah!'

'Of course I've been seeing Fraulein Hilda! She _does _work just outside my office door, if you _haven't _noticed!'

'No I didn't mean _that,_' Hogan fought off a frown, Klink's dullness trying his patience. 'I mean you've been _seeing _her – you know – _romantically seeing her_?'

'What?' Klink blinked, taken back. 'What are you talking about?'

'She's crazy about you!'

'She _is_?'

'And all this time, I thought you were just another ruthless kraut,' Hogan shook his head in disbelief. 'But you certainly showed me! Put me in my place, you did!'

'I did?'

'Yes! Why, I had no idea you were so noble!'

'Noble?'

'Agreeing to take things slow until her father returned from battle,' said Hogan, in a believable, as-a-matter-of-factly tone of voice. 'Only then could you properly ask her hand in marriage. A saint, you are, Kommandant. A noble saint –'

'Colonel Hogan there must be some mistake here,' Klink rose from his chair, his mind in an obvious state of bewilderment. '_I _haven't said any of those things!'

'Actions speak louder than words, Kommandant,' said Hogan, leant up against Klink's fine pinewood desk. 'And let me tell you, Hilda is _crazy _about you. Why, that's all she talks about whenever I see her – before I see you, that is. It's a bit annoying, actually, always having to hear about your greatness (Klink couldn't help but expose a silly grin), it makes us _smaller _men feel so insecure! I mean, we already know you're a man with an iron hand, but –'

'That's enough Hogan,' said Klink, his hands proudly pressed behind his back. He slowly paced about the small area behind his desk, undoubtedly processing all of this new information through his brain (and that shouldn't take long, thought Hogan, for it wasn't a very big brain).

'Uh, Colonel, if I may ask –'

'No Hogan, I'm not in the mood for your silly requests today. You are dismissed.'

'But sir –'

'Dismissed!' Klink grumbled. 'Oh, uh, could you send Fraulein Hilda in here, on your way out?'

'I don't really think that's necessary,' said Hogan, suppressing a smirk. 'I'm sure she was already on her way in here.'

Klink beamed uncontrollably.

'Oh and Colonel Hogan?'

'Hmm?'

'I… I'm sorry about your mother.'

Hogan only looked at Klink once before exiting his office. It was times like these that softened his spot for the ignorant Kommandant of Stalag 13.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

'Heh, that poor bird,' sniggered Newkirk, later on that day in the barracks, dishing cards out to Carter, LeBeau and Kinch. 'Having to pretend to like that old duffer. Blimey, I bet you she won't last a week, with his big smiling mug in her face night and day.'

'Well she's gonna have to last more than a week,' said Hogan, pacing about the barracks. 'At least until the Gestapo come and clear Klink's name, otherwise _we'll _be out of business.'

'Don'tcha ever feel bad, Colonel?' Carter asked, a crestfallen look upon his face.

'Bad about what, Carter?'

'You know, that you've tricked Klink into thinking Hilda's in love with him. I mean, I know it's for his own good, but gosh, I'd feel really silly if I were Klink…'

'Yeah well Klink would feel even sillier with no nads, wouldn't he?' Newkirk snorted, throwing a queen of hearts down onto the table. 'Besides, he's too duffed to know what's coming or going.'

Hogan didn't say so, but his insides burned with guilt. Of course he felt guilty, letting Klink believe a beautiful face like Hilda was madly in love with him, but what choice did he have? Let the Gestapo come and find out he was a pathetic excuse for a German officer, with a nonexistent love life? Or worse, discover that he was in fact queer?

_No, he's not queer_.

Besides, Klink was used to rejection by now. After his name is cleared and the Gestapo gets off of his back, Hilda can let him down nice and gently. Or hope her father never returned from battle to give Klink permission to wed his daughter.

'Well I still think it's a waste of time,' said Kinch, throwing a card onto the table. 'So what if the Gestapo arrests him? One less kraut.'

Although Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter seemed to brush off Kinch's words with mere sniggers and scoffs, Hogan felt a _twang_ from within his chest. How could Kinch have said something like that? Just _one less kraut_? That kraut was their Kommandant! That kraut was _his _Kommandant!

Hogan took a very dry gulp of air.

_Not __**my**__ Kommandant, __**our**__ Kommandant, _he corrected himself.

But perhaps he shouldn't anger so quickly towards Kinch's words. After all, to his men, Klink was probably just some other kraut in the war. They didn't know him like Hogan did. They didn't understand him like Hogan did. Why, Hogan knew Klink better than he knew his own mother.

His stomach dropped at the mere reminder of what he had lost.

'… Isn't it, Colonel?'

'Huh?' the American Colonel was suddenly snapped from his daze. 'What did you say, LeBeau?'

'I said, that's really all that has to be done, regarding the Kommandant, oui?'

'Uh, yeah, pretty much. All we've gotta do now is pray Klink plays his cards right, and Hilda holds out.'

'Heh, you wouldn't catch me doing that,' muttered Kinch.

Hogan had never felt such a strong desire to whack Kinch over his stupid black, fuzzy head with a thick wooden plank as he did right now.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

_Hogan was trying to push the trigger; he had to have this ammunition dump blown up before the German's caught him! But the damned button wouldn't trigger the explosives, no matter how many times he jabbed it._

'_Damnit Carter!' he cursed, whacking it hard._

'_I told you Colonel,' Carter shrugged, standing behind him. 'I rigged it up right, but you can't trigger it with a guilty conscience.'_

'_What the hell is that supposed to mean!'_

'_It means that you can't blow up that ammunition dump until you've cleared your guilt.' Said Carter. Hogan tried to ignore him, figuring this was just one of Carter's childish games. But upon closer inspection, he soon realised he was infact trying to press a coke bottle cap on a red apple. He threw the apple and the cap far from sight, furious with Carter, ready to ring his neck. But when he turned, Carter wasn't there with a goofy grin: it was Major Hochstetter of the Gestapo. _

'_So, caught in the act, aye?'_

'_What?'_

'_Trying to blow up our banana dump, huh?'_

'_Banana dump!'_

'_Not just any banana dump, Hogan!' Klink stood behind the Gestapo major, shaking his black-gloved fist about. 'The Fuhrer's banana dump!'_

'_You dummkopf!' Hochstetter roused, smacking Klink over the head. 'Revealing secret information to the prisoners! I'll have you shot!'_

'_Hey don't touch him!' Hogan fired, forcing himself between Hochstetter and Klink. There was a nasty smile curling on the thin lips of the Gestapo major._

'_Ah so I see how it is! The both of you are under arrest!'_

'_Oh what charges?'_

'_These charges.'_

_When Hogan blinked, the image of Hochstetter had been replaced by Kinch, who stood with his arms crossed in a disapproving fashion. Squinting, Hogan's jaw dropped. What the hell was going on? Where was Hochstetter?_

'_Hogan you saved my life,' Klink's hands rested upon Hogan's chest. Hogan's entire body shuddered; this shouldn't feel so good. Another man touching him shouldn't feel this good. Klink was caressing his face; his body burned with delight. His breaths became heavier and heavier. _

'_Hogan what's the matter with you? You're all flushed in the face!' Klink exclaimed, his nose within a centimetre of his own. Hogan could feel Klink's sweet breath on his face. His lips tingled (as did other parts of his body). They parted; his lips met with Klink's, his hot tongue entering the startled Kommandant's mouth. Although taken by surprise, Klink didn't reject Hogan's advances. As a matter of fact, he welcomed them with great enthusiasm. _

_Moaning into Klink's warm mouth, Hogan's hands fought their way into the older man's overcoat, his fingers desperate for objects of pure pleasure. _

'_Kommandant,' Hogan breathed. 'Kommandant… Please…'_

'_Please what, Hogan?' Klink purred, his lips tracing the outline of Hogan's neck._

'_Please… show me that iron hand of yours…' _

Hogan awoke with a jolt, his body spasming for only a second. As he lay in the darkness of his office, piecing together the unquestionably _bizarre _dream he'd just experienced, a knock was heard from outside his door.

His head spinning and his palms clammy, Hogan groaned,

'Yeah who is it?'

'Sorry, Colonel, it's me –'

'Argh! Carter!' Hogan grumbled, masking his eyes from the piercing light. 'What do you want?'

'Uh, sorry to bother you Colonel, but, are you alright?' Carter asked. Hogan was too busy covering his eyes from the blinding light to notice the wet patch on a particular area of his body. Carter, having the keen eyes he did, stumbled across this sight almost immediately.

'What do you _mean _am I alright?'

'You, uh, we heard you making noises in here,' Carter tried to hide the goofy smile from his face, but it wasn't working. Hogan was soon to discover _why _Carter was continuously staring at his crotch.

Embarrassment wasn't something Colonel Hogan usually expressed, but now was one of those rare times he did.

'You can get out, Carter.' He grumbled,

'Uh, sure. But, first, you know Colonel, my mother always said that wetting the bed was a sign of –'

'CARTER, GOODBYE!'

Carter quickly closed the door behind him, leaving Hogan to sit in his own embarrassment (literally). His mind was so confused, so flustered. He shouldn't be dreaming of things like that! It was so _wrong_, on so many levels… Had he moaned loud enough for his men to know who he was dreaming of? If they knew he was snogging _Klink_ in his dreams, of _all _people!

_No. Get a hold of yourself. You're only having these silly dreams because number one; you're trying to prove Klink isn't queer, and number two; you haven't had any for a while._

And Hogan gave himself a convinced nod. That was it. Case closed.

He wasn't sexually interest in Klink! God, of all the men in the world he might turn the opposite way for, _Klink _was the very _last_.

**Dreams are fun and strange aren't they? LOL. Hope you liked the second chapter! Third will be posted within the next week, to give people a chance to review, which again I will say WE LIVE FOR :D so please keep that in mind xD Thanks for reading guys! Reviewww !**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the next chapter guys! Thanks for your reviews :D Hope you like this one too! **

'The Colonel alright?' LeBeau asked, looking up from his hand of cards. Carter nodded his head slightly, that same goofy grin plastered across his face. He tried to hide it, like a child who wasn't supposed to laugh, but did a poor job of it.

'What are you grinning at?' Newkirk mumbled, lighting up a cigarette.

'Oh, uh nothing,' Carter ruffled up his jacket. 'Just, I think I might'a embarrassed the Colonel, that's all.'

'Embarrassed the Colonel?' Kinch rose an eyebrow.

'Well wakin' up to your ugly mug, I'm surprised he didn't mess himself,' croaked Newkirk.

'Hah, well it's funny you should say that,' Carter began, his cheek twitching with a smirk.

'… I was only kidding, Carter.'

'No I mean, when I walked in, he sorta had… You know.'

'You know _what_?' Kinch frowned.

'Well he musta had a bad dream or something, cause my mother always said wetting the bed was from –'

'You're duffed, Carter!' Newkirk rolled his eyes. 'Colonel Hogan didn't _wet the bed_!'

'You didn't see it now did you?' Carter frowned. 'Besides, everyone does it! It's nothing to be ashamed of! Even I do it from time to –'

'You still piss the bed, do you?' Newkirk turned to Carter, half wanting to laugh, half in a stare of disbelief. Carter went pink.

'Well you know –'

'Carter, stop embarrassing yourself, and _me_,' Newkirk shook his head. 'I'll tell you what Colonel Hogan did, and it ain't got anything to do with pissing yourself. He just spoofed himself, that's all.'

'_Spoofed_?' Carter blinked.

'Oui, it happens from time to time, especially when there's been long periods of time in between women.' Said LeBeau. Carter looked slightly puzzled.

'Between women?'

'Oh, Carter, what the hell happens when you get together with a woman?' Kinch grumbled.

'Well, depending on the time I guess, night or day? If it's daytime, you could take her out for coffee and cakes – well that's what I did on –'

'For crying out loud Carter!' Newkirk fumed. 'When you _get with a woman_, you get your blimin' nob jacked off, don't you?'

Carter went very red in the cheeks. In an instant, everything seemed to make sense, especially regarding Hogan's _accident_.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

The next week brought Hogan much work; meeting up with underground agents, keeping Kommandant Klink's big nose away from their evening rendezvous, and plotting to somehow find out the location of a new fuel testing plant before they discovered a more efficient way to win the war. Thanks to this, Hogan had little time to think of his mother. And as a bonus, Carter seemed to have forgotten about what he'd seen a few nights ago.

Keeping Klink off the scent of his underground activity seemed almost too easy; with his spare time increasingly spent with Fraulein Hilda, the German Kommandant had little time to invent silly accusations.

No Gestapo agent had turned up yet, to Fraulein Hilda's dismay.

'Colonel, I know this is all very important for the Kommandant's reputation,' Hilda began, at the end of the first suffocating week of Klink's affections, 'but I haven't had a moment to myself all week!'

'Oh come on Fraulein, old blood and guts can't be that bad,' Hogan grinned, amused by the look of disbelief printed across Hilda's face. 'You've told him no hanky panky until daddy gets home?'

'Yes, only fifty times,' Hilda sighed. 'He knows that, he's just suffocating, that's all.'

'Well you're probably the most action Klink's had in twenty years!' he sniggered to himself. 'Told all your friends about you and the Kommandant, then?'

'What's left of them,' Hilda mumbled. 'They're all so disappointed in me that I didn't tell them sooner.'

'But they're convinced?'

'Sadly, yes.'

'Good,' Hogan nodded to himself, springing off of Hilda's desk. 'Now we've just gotta convince people around _Klink's _social circle. Like Burkhalter. When's old rolly polly due in?'

'He has a meeting with the Kommandant tomorrow morning,' said Hilda, peering down at her files. 'Are you sure he has to know?'

'Certain. Although they aren't the best of buddies Klink makes them out to be, Burkhalter is still one of the closest people to him, and one of the people the Gestapo are sure to question. Let's just hope they haven't already questioned him.'

'I think when this is all over,' Hilda began, 'you will owe me a bit more than a few pairs of stockings, yes?'

'What'd you have in mind?' Hogan smirked, eyeing Hilda's curves.

'I'm sure we could sort something out,' Hilda battered her eyes, leaning across the table to Hogan's lips. 'Or maybe, you could pay me a little in advance, yes?'

'Tsk tsk, Fraulein _Hilda_,' Hogan sneered, his lips meeting with the blonde woman's. 'What will _Kommandant Klink_ say?'

The door to Klink's office flung open, revealing the positively beaming Kommandant. Hogan pulled away from Hilda's embrace just in time.

'Oh, Hogan! So nice to see you on such a fine day!' Klink grinned, his hands behind his back. Hogan was growing tired of this, for everyday Klink greeted him with a mouth full of gleaming white teeth.

'What can I do for you?'

'Oh I was just getting the latest from Fraulein Hilda here,' Hogan forced a smirk. 'She's got to brag to _someone _who understands your charm!'

Hilda made a face into her filing, wishing Hogan hadn't said that statement with such enthusiasm, for Klink's smile only widened (if that was humanly possible).

'Anyway Colonel, I don't wanna take up anymore of the lovebirds' time,' said Hogan, trying not to snigger at the wincing look upon Hilda's face.

As he left the main office, Hogan could feel a funny pinging sensation in his chest, starting from the very moment he had seen Klink exit his office with that hideous smile. He was happy, too happy, actually. This pinging sensation must be guilt, thought Hogan, for Klink very well thought Hilda was deeply involved with him. What would he have done if he caught Hogan kissing her?

_He didn't catch us so get over it._

It wasn't something stupid like jealousy. Hogan forced a scoff. No, that was far off it.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

That night, for the first time in a week, Colonel Hogan and his men were able to relax. Although Hogan would much rather rendezvous with an agent or blow up German supplies (anything to take his mind off that funny feeling in his chest), his boys deserved a rest. They had been out every night for the past week.

'Got any fives, Schultzy?'

'Heh, go fish,' Schultz grinned.

'Come on Schultzy,' Newkirk nudged the great jelly of a sergeant. 'Fives please?'

'I said I didn't have any!' Schultz grumbled, the smile disappearing from his fat face.

'I bet you do,' said LeBeau, teasingly. 'Come on Schultz!'

'Play the game right, Schultzy!'

'I said I have no fives!'

'Come on, Schultz!'

'ALRIGHT!' Schultz boomed, throwing down his five of hearts onto the table, defeated. Smiling, Newkirk took the card, pleased with himself.

'There we go, Schultzy!' Newkirk shook his finger. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you not to cheat?'

'Heh, jolly jokers,' Schultz grumbled.

'So what's the deal with the Kommandant lately?' LeBeau asked, rubbing his hands together. 'He looks too happy for my liking.'

'Yeah, flashing that ugly smile whenever we pass,' Newkirk shuddered, 'tis enough to give a man a heart attack, it is!'

'Heh, the big shot has got a _mistress_,' said Schultz, his eyes rolling.

'No way!' Carter gasped, in fake shock.

'Who'd wanna take out his ugly mug?' Kinch added.

'Heh, Fraulein _Hilda_.'

'That's a load of rubbish,' said Newkirk, in apparent disbelief. 'Ain't it, Colonel?'

'Nah I think it might be true,' said Hogan, 'she certainly has been a lot more involved with the Kommandant, I must say.'

'Heh, apparently they have been together for _two years_ now,' said Schultz, sounding as though _he _was in disbelief. 'But Fraulein Hilda has kept it quiet. They are waiting for her father's permission to marry, you know.'

'Heh, and I thought Fraulein Hilda was alright,' Kinch shook his head.

'I guess there's one in every flock,' said LeBeau.

'Hey I'm sure Klink has some good qualities about him,' said Carter, 'he must have if Fraulein Hilda likes him.'

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

That next morning, as expected, General Burkhalter rolled in. If he wasn't already so used to Klink's beaming smile every time he visited Stalag 13, he would have taken notice to its _extra _gleam.

'Always a pleasure, Herr General!'

'I know,' grunted the toad-like Burkhalter, striding into Klink's office.

'Hey, Hilda,' Hogan whispered, creeping into the front office. 'Coast clear?'

'Yes, mein Colonel, the Kommandant and General Burkhalter are in his office –'

'Great,' Hogan said, closing the door behind him. 'We have some convincing to do.'

Hilda's facial muscles tensed. 'Now?'

'Yep.'

'But what do I do?'

'You're going to waltz in there, batter your pretty eyes and tell Klink he's taking you out tonight,' said Hogan, his arms folded across his chest. 'I'll be surprised if Burkhalter doesn't pass out from shock.'

So Hilda straightened up her blouse, perfected her silvery blonde hair and gently knocked on Klink's office door.

'Yes who is it –'

'Mein Kommandant,' said Hilda, in such a voice, even Hogan sneered. 'You don't mind me interrupting?'

'Oh, of course not –'

'How are you, Fraulein Hilda?' Burkhalter rose from his chair, cutting Klink off. 'Looking beautiful today, if I do say so myself.'

'Thank you Herr General,' swallowed Hilda, reluctantly eyeing Klink. 'Mein Kommandant, I was just confirming our plans, for this evening?'

'Uh –'

'Our dinner plans at the Hoffbrau in town,' Hilda continued, her eyes dedicated to the gleaming Kommandant. 'They were for six o'clock tonight, yes?'

'Oh, yes they were!' Klink's smile widened.

'Having dinner together tonight, then?' Burkhalter asked, looking as though he was about to invite himself. Smart to his intentions, Hilda piped up, approaching the Kommandant against her will.

'Yes, just a romantic dinner for the two of us,' she said, her hand on Klink's chest (Hogan, who was listening at the door, could just picture the look on Burkhalter's face). Klink straightened his back up, looking about the room with a proud smile. Burkhalter however, wasn't smiling.

'I can hardly wait,' Hilda purred, kissing the Kommandant's cheek. 'Until then, _Wilhelm_.'

Burkhalter could hardly believe his ears, let alone his eyes. As Hilda strode out of Klink's office, winking in the Kommandant's direction, the fat general turned to him, an unquestionable look of awe on his round face.

'… You and Fraulein _Hilda_?'

'It surprises you, does it?' Klink tittered. 'We have been together for two years now!'

'_Two years_?'

'Ahuh, but we've kept it quiet,' said Klink, in a failed attempt to repress a smile. 'You see, we must await her father's permission. He's away in battle.'

'Permission for _what_?'

'Why, to wed, of course!'

Burkhalter sat back down (fell down into the chair, more like it), his brain slowly taking in what Klink had just told him. It had taken him by surprise, yes, but if it were true, he couldn't deny; Klink had made a lucky match. Fraulein Hilda wasn't to be compared to _his _wife.

'We have been discreet, yes?'

'_Very _discreet,' said Burkhalter, somewhat amused. 'Well, Klink, then let me be the first to congratulate you –'

'Not interrupting, am I?' Hogan decided to make his appearance known, striding into Klink's office with his hands in his pockets. 'Ah, General Burkhalter! I didn't notice you _roll _in!'

'Hello to you too, Colonel Hogan,' Burkhalter mumbled.

'Hogan! How many times have I asked you to _knock_?' Klink grumbled.

'Not enough, dear Kommandant,' Hogan smiled innocently. 'Ah, you've heard about these lovebirds, hey, General? Secretive, weren't they! Why I had _no _idea, and I live here!'

'Yes, I just heard,' said Burkhalter, 'what I would like to know, is why suddenly now are you both choosing to display your affections?'

Klink's mouth was open, but there seemed to be something stopping the words from flowing out. Hogan took his que.

'Well with all this uncertainty of the war, General, these two spring chickens decided it was really now or never,' he waffled on. 'You know how it is. Why, any day now, our beloved Kommandant might be transferred to the Russian Front!'

Klink's brow fell.

'_Hogan_ –'

'You have a very good point,' said Burkhalter, his suspicion evaporating. 'Well, we should really be celebrating this!'

'_This, _Herr General?' Klink asked, mouth wide with glee.

'You, Klink, finally, after fifty years of searching, have found a poor, defenceless female to bare the name _Wilhelm Klink_.'

'Yes, Herr General,' Klink replied, looking rather mopey indeed. Hogan sneered at this, but he was only smiling on the outside. His chest was burning with a funny sensation. Was baring the name _Wilhelm Klink _such a horrible thing?

'I know just the thing, Colonel,' said Burkhalter, raising from his chair, 'There will be a party held here in two weeks, and now we can say it's being held in _your honour_.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

'We found out Colonel that the party _in Klink's honour_ is just a cover story,' said Kinch, later on that day. Hogan and his four men sat around the coffee pot in his office.

'Oui, we listened in to Burkhalter's phone conversation after you left his office, mon Colonel.'

'Yeah? And what's this big bash for, then?'

'Informal interrogation of sorts,' said Newkirk, 'the Gestapo are gonna be there in disguise.'

'What, to question Klink?'

'No,' said Newkirk, 'they're there to _observe _General Aksel Wolfgang's behaviour, sir.'

'Who's he?' Hogan asked, his chin rested on his knuckles.

'_He _is on the list that agent gave us, Colonel,' said Kinch, in a-matter-of-factly sort of voice.

'So, he's a suspected queer, then?'

'Seems so,' said Newkirk, 'his name's higher than Klink's, so he's more of a priority to the ruddy Gestapo. A queer General is worse than a queer Colonel, I suppose.'

'And with any luck, they'll see Klink with Hilda and hear their sappy love story,' said Hogan, 'let's just hope he doesn't muck it up on us.'

'Well it's kinda obvious now that Klink isn't one of _those_,' said Carter, 'I mean, he's been pretty keen on Hilda, hasn't he?'

'Carter my dear boy, Klink would be keen on any female with a pretty smile,' Hogan said, 'he's just terrible at attracting them, that's all.'

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

The party was almost upon them, and after two weeks of convincing everyone Klink and Hilda were in love, Hogan was pretty fed up with it. He didn't even _have _to convince people, as a matter of fact! Hilda was doing quite a good job on her own. A little _too _good, thought Hogan. The amount of affection the both of them displayed in front of the rest of the camp was enough to make Hogan throw up. And to add to his annoyance, the abnormal pinging in his chest hadn't ceased. If anything, it had worsened. Hogan knew it wasn't a physical problem; no, his heart was fine. His health was fine. It was that funny, burning feeling you got when you watched something you desired played with by another person.

And that something had to be Hilda. That made perfect sense. Hogan hadn't realised it, but he was jealous over the attention Hilda was giving Klink – not because it was _Klink_, but because it was _Hilda_. Any other woman wouldn't have bothered him, he decided. He obviously had harboured secret feelings of affection for the German secretary. That was it.

Well, he had been seeing her on and off in the past three years of his stay at Stalag 13. Why, with her being the only reliable female companionship there in the camp, it was no wonder Hogan had grown attached to her! His emotions were burning for _her._ Not _Klink_.

Why was he even _telling _himself that? He _knew _he was jealous for Hilda, not Klink.

Right?

And that was why he was waiting up Friday night, watching through the barracks window for Klink and Hilda to arrive back in camp. He wanted to make sure _Hilda _didn't enter Klink's quarters, like she had been avoiding doing for the past two weeks. After watching her _almost _enter his quarters last night, Hogan decided he would sleep best if he knew she didn't enter his quarters tonight.

Peering out the barracks window, Hogan spied the Kommandant's car entering camp, himself and Hilda in the backseat. He couldn't help but wince at the flirtatious kisses Hilda was placing upon his cheek. They exited the car, Hogan watching carefully as they walked up the stairs leading into Klink's quarters. His heart was thumping. He felt so stupid, watching nervously like this, but then reminded himself, he didn't want _Hilda _to be put in any awkward situations. No, his intentions were purely for Hilda's welfare.

Nothing like he couldn't bare the thought of Klink's hands on anyone but himself, or anything.

Hogan flinched; he didn't just think that.

His breathes were edgy. Klink opened up the door to his quarters, and Hilda entered – what Hogan hoped _wouldn't _happen.

'Did old Klink get rejected again, Colonel?' Newkirk asked, tapping his cigarette.

'No,' Hogan said, his emotions flowing unevenly. 'She went in!'

'What?' Kinch scoffed.

'Haha, the old bald git might finally get some action, aye Colonel?'

'No, not if I can help it,' Hogan forced a smile, exiting the barracks door.

The rest of his men watched as he shook off Schultz (who was desperately trying to get him to return to the barracks), and strode across the camp, destine for Colonel Klink's door.

'Poor man,' LeBeau sighed, pouring a cup of hot coco.

'Yeah,' Newkirk huffed. 'Must be a pretty rotten thing to watch.'

'Which is why I was against the whole thing from the beginning,' Kinch shook his head. It seemed the only one who hadn't got the apparent gist of the American Colonel's jealous emotions was Carter, who stared at the other three men with a look of confusion.

'Why? What's wrong with him?'

'Don't you _get _it, Carter?' Newkirk grumbled.

'Get what?'

'Why the blimin' gov's been acting so stroppy the last week?'

'Uh, well yeah I had noticed that, but I wasn't sure why –'

'Because he is clearly jealous, Carter,' said LeBeau. 'Haven't you noticed?

'Jealous of what? Klink and Fraulein Hilda?'

'Someone whack him,' Kinch shook his head in disbelief.

'Didn't you know the ruddy Colonel's always had his eye on her?' Newkirk squinted.

'He likes her?'

'YES CARTER!'

'But, he's always kissing other women and stuff,' said Carter, looking thoughtful, 'I, I just thought that maybe –'

'It's wartime, Carter,' said LeBeau, 'prisoners will take as many women as they can, _when _they can.'

'But that's not very nice then,' said Carter, 'liking her then kissing all those other girls!'

Newkirk flicked his cigarette butt from his fingers and turned to Carter, just about ready to ring his little neck.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

Hogan's ear was pressed up against Klink's door. He could probably hear what was going on, if it weren't for Schultz, who was urgently trying to pull him away. Irritated to be hearing Schultz's panicking voice as apposed to hearing Klink's and Hilda's, Hogan spun around, waving his hand in the fat sergeant's face.

'Schultz! Pipe down!'

'But you aren't supposed to _be _here! The Kommandant will be so _angry_!' Schultz spat.

'Oh come off it, Schultz! I'm just protecting the Colonel's reputation! Hilda promised her father _not _to engage in _sinful _acts until the both of them were married!'

'But Colonel, if you go _in _there –'

'I would be doing the Kommandant a huge favour, now wouldn't I?'

Schultz made a loud grumbling sound, his own instincts battling with one another.

'I don't think the Kommandant will _see _it that way,' Schultz sighed.

'Well it's for his own good!'

Hogan barged through the door (Schultz moaning in disagreement in the background), to find both Hilda and Klink together in one another's arms on the couch. Luckily, Hogan had just made it in time. By the looks of it, they hadn't made it past _innocent _kissing. Still, the very sight of it all hit his chest with a painful _twang_. Klink's hands had been all over _her_.

'_Hogan_!' Klink bellowed, stumbling up. 'What are you _doing here_!'

'I just came to make sure Fraulein Hilda was safe,' Hogan laughed with such innocence, it made Schultz cringe. 'You remember what your father said, Fraulein!'

To Hogan's sudden confusion, Hilda nodded her head, but her expression read that of someone in disappointment. Hilda _wanted _to be in here, alone with Klink? Hogan refused to believe it. She was obviously playing along with his act.

'Hogan, OUT!'

'Not until I see the Fraulein sit safely in that staff car and be driven _straight _home!'

Klink's fuming face couldn't have gotten any pinker. Reluctantly, Hilda gathered her belongings and bit the Kommandant farewell, her eyes continuously glaring in Hogan's direction.

'I'll walk her to the car –'

'SCHULTZ, escort this, this _menace _back to the barracks, Schnell!'

Klink slammed the door in Hogan's face, seemingly too frustrated or too embarrassed to face him. Pleased with himself, the American Colonel skipped down the small staircase, where a frowning Hilda greeted him.

'What's gotten into you?' Hogan was the first to speak, through a whisper. 'You wanna get mauled?'

'Well at least the Kommandant is paying a little more attention to me than _you_ are.'

Hogan's jaw dropped.

'_What_?'

'You know, for the past two years, I have told lies for you, stolen the Kommandant's mail, turned a blind eye to the strange goings on here at Stalag 13, and for what? To sit here, powdering my pretty little face to have you _use _me!'

'Where the hell did this come from?' Hogan stood in awe (Schultz was now distracted with LeBeau, who was generously giving him left over apple strudel). 'I haven't done anything!'

'Exactly,' Hilda's eyes glossed. 'All you do is bribe me with a few pairs of stockings now and then!'

'Hey I thought you liked the stockings?'

'That isn't the point! You've forced me into a horrible situation! He really believes I love him!'

'Well _you _didn't have to make it worse by going in there and –'

'I don't know what games you're playing, Colonel Hogan, but leave the poor Kommandant out of it! How can you manipulate him like this? Don't you have any guilt?'

Hogan's finger's twitched; how could she say that? What _right _did she have, saying that? _He _was manipulating the Kommandant? _She _was manipulating the Kommandant! Hilda was the one, frolicking about, hand in hand with Klink, making others believe they were lovers. She should be the one with the guilt, not him!

_But I asked her to do it… I asked her to do it to protect Klink's reputation…_

'What brought all this on?' Hogan asked, deciding it was best to keep his voice low, despite wanting to scream at the top of it. 'I mean, we both knew this would be tough, but it's for Klink's own good!'

'You don't have to listen to him talk, Colonel,' Hilda whimpered, 'you don't have to hear him pour his heart and soul into me. He's a fool, I know that, but under it all, he's harmless. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this.'

Hogan's face wrinkled in disbelief. Hilda was saying all the things that swam about his mind, every day, every night. He knew Klink was a fool. He knew deep down, Klink was just a harmless officer, caught up on the wrong side, his life ruled by fear and denial. But she didn't need to say it aloud. He didn't need to hear it from _her_. What did _she _know about Klink? Hogan knew Klink better than _her_.

And he knew he had to stop himself. He was thinking like a jealous boyfriend. Except it wasn't Hilda he was jealous over.

'Would you rather see Klink in a concentration camp, castrated, humiliated beyond belief? Does he really deserve _that_? You know how the Nazis work, Hilda! You know if a Gestapo agent even _suspects _Klink of being queer, they'll arrest him! You want _that_?'

'Of course I don't want _that_!' Hilda growled.

'Then what the hell are we arguing about?'

'I'm tired of waiting for you, Colonel Hogan,' said Hilda, softly. 'I'm tired of being your _fool_!'

'What the hell are you trying to say, then?'

'I'm going to marry him,' said Hilda, Hogan's jaw dropping to an unhealthy level. His expression of shock was soon to be replaced with evidence of amusement.

'_Marry _Klink?'

'You find it funny, yes? Well he might not be as handsome or witty as you, Colonel, but he knows how to treat a woman _right_.'

And with that, Hilda slammed her door shut, ordering for the driver to move on, leaving Hogan looking as though he had been slapped fair across the face. She was going to _marry him_? She wasn't supposed to _marry _him! Hilda was only supposed to lead him on until the Gestapo got off of his back, right?

Hogan felt a gush of emotions. He staggered back to his barracks, trying to get his head around what had just happened. Why was his chest pinging? Why were his hands so sweaty? If he hadn't been so infatuated with Klink, he'd be happy for the old fella, right?

_Infatuated with Hilda. Not Klink, you fool._

He entered the barracks, his men eager to hear of what had happened. They were all looking up at him like children, ready to hear a bedtime story.

'She's gonna marry him,' were the only words that slipped from Hogan's lips.

'_What_?' the men chanted.

'Like I said,' said Hogan, realising he shouldn't have said this statement with the look of such devastation painted on his face. 'Klink's gonna marry her.'

'_Hilda_?' Newkirk squinted.

'Is gonna marry Klink?' Kinch said, in pure disbelief. 'When did this war get so out of hand?'

'She loves him, then?' LeBeau inquired.

'How the hell am I supposed to know?' Hogan shrugged, unintentionally letting his anger show. Carter looked up from his chocolate red cross biscuits, a look of confusion on his face. Newkirk saw this, but couldn't act quick enough before Carter said,

'But I don't understand, that's a bad thing? Isn't she supposed to marry the Kommandant?'

'She was supposed to lead him to _believe _that, not actually marry the blimin' kraut!'

'That's all very well and all, but what's the problem? If she wants to marry him, what's wrong?'

'Carter I'm gonna _smash you_,' Newkirk whispered through gritted teeth, grabbing Carter by the scruff. Hogan had to bite his tongue; what was he doing? What would his men think of his behaviour already?

_They think it's because of Hilda. Well it is, isn't it?_

Hogan didn't even want to answer himself on that. He went to speak, his fingers twitching behind his back, when Schultz entered the barracks, waving his fat finger about for Hogan.

'Colonel Hogan!' he boomed.

'This isn't the candy shop, Schultz,' Hogan sighed, 'what do you want?'

'The Kommandant want's to see you!' Schultz babbled, stumbling across the room.

'Why?'

'Why? He's _furious _about you interrupting him and Fraulien Hilda!'

'Yeah?' Hogan raised his eyebrows, a humorous look across his face. He then gave Schultz a rude hand gesture, (shocking Schultz) saying, 'tell him from me – to suck on this!'

And slammed his door. Schultz stood in awe, his mouth dropped. He then looked around to the other men in the barracks.

'Should, I repeat that word for word?'

'I wouldn't recommend it Schultzy,' said Newkirk, spinning around to face Carter. 'And _you_!'

'What about me?'

'Are you ruddy duffed?'

'Don't you realise that the Colonel doesn't want Klink and Fraulein Hilda married because he _loves _her?' LeBeau roused. Carter thought for a moment, suddenly looking very regretful indeed.

'Oops…'

'Yeah, _oops_,' Newkirk rolled his eyes. Schultz's big ears twitched.

'Did you say that Colonel Hogan is in _love _with Fraulein Hilda?'

'It's a complicated war, ain't it, Schultzy?' Newkirk sighed.

'Oh that is very sad,' Schultz shook his head, looking very grave indeed. 'Poor Colonel Hogan. I had no idea! And now Fraulein Hilda is marrying the Kommandant…'

'Amour, is never fair,' LeBeau sighed. 'Especially in wartime.'

'But poor Colonel Hogan,' Schultz sighed, 'first his mother, now this…'

'His mother?' Newkirk inquired, looking up at Schultz from his card game.

'What about his mother?' Kinch asked.

'What _about _his mother? She passed away not long ago!' said Schultz, unsure of why Hogan's men were giving him peculiar looks. 'Didn't he tell you?'

'No, he didn't tell us!' Carter exclaimed, looking devastated.

'When did this happen then?' Newkirk grumbled.

'A couple of weeks ago,' said Schultz, 'Colonel Hogan got a letter from his Uncle Arney that his mother had passed away! Cancer, I think it was.'

'And Colonel Hogan told _you_ this?' Kinch asked, doubtful.

'No,' Schultz admitted, 'naturally I had to check the mail first!'

'Yeah, of course you did,' LeBeau grumbled.

'Well why didn't he tell us?' Carter asked aloud, looking saddened. 'I mean, his mother…'

'That's probably why he didn't ruddy tell us,' said Newkirk, 'the Colonel likes to keep them kind of things to himself, he does. Blimey, no wonder he's been acting so barmy…'

'I don't think we should mention it,' said LeBeau, 'because if Colonel Hogan doesn't tell us personally, then it's better left.'

'I agree,' Kinch added.

**That's the end of this chapter, I reallyyyy hope you enjoyed reading it! Sorry if you didn't like anything, but it really does have significance. I do hope you review again and let us know what you think! The next chapter is interesting I promise you xD and once again will be posted within the next week, sooner depending on how quick the reviews come! Thank you! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Slightly interesting chapter xD getting into the romance a bit now! Sorry if we've caused you pain by making you wait xD hope you're enjoying the fanfic so far nonetheless, and I hope you continue enjoying it! **

Hogan buried his face into his pillow, feeling as though he was fifteen, all over again. This feeling of such anger gushed through him, like water spewing out of a busted hose. And the worst thing was, he didn't even know _why _he was angry. So what, Hilda was marrying Klink? She was just another German girl. What was so special about her? He could get a hundred of her back home, just for being a Yankee Air Force hero! Why was he so burnt up about just another blonde dame?

Well, Klink wasn't exactly a blonde dame.

_What the hell is wrong with you, Robert?_

Was it Klink he was thinking of?

_No it's not, you idiot_.

Hogan then thought; yes, when he returned back to America after the war, he could get dames. Yes, as many dames as he wanted. But he wouldn't see his mother. No, she was dead.

Hogan felt his eyes burn with tears.

_Hogan sat alone in a dark room. Across from him, he could see his mother, sitting silently in her rocking chair, staring into her son's eyes with next to no emotion. Hogan tried to approach her, but no matter how much he tried, he never seemed to approach her. Frustrated, he threw his hands down by his side, peering into his mother's cold dark eyes._

'_Mom, I'm sorry…'_

_She sat silent. Her eyes weren't the warm, loving dark eyes Hogan remembered. No, they were cold, icy excuses for pupils. The very sight of them made Hogan shudder._

'_Mom… I wanted to come home… I can't, my place is here… There's a war on!'_

_Silence met Hogan's ears._

_But then Hogan realised that it wasn't infact his mother, glaring across at him, but Hilda. Through firm, yet painted lips, she whispered,_

'_And here I thought you were jealous for me.'_

'_What? I am!'_

_But then she was gone. As the dream panned on, it was as though Hogan had forgotten all about what he had just seen; he was now in Klink's office, watching the Kommandant parade about his desk in a fine black suit. Hogan guessed he was just about to wed Hilda. _

'_How do I look, Hogan?'_

'_Do you want the truth?' Hogan asked, testingly. Klink swived around, shooting Hogan a very peculiar look._

'_Yes. The honest truth!'_

'_Then I think you look fucking fine,' said Hogan, unzipping his leather jacket. Klink's jaw dropped, watching Hogan with keen eyes as he leant up against his desk, arching his back in a seductive position. He was sure that if this were for real, Klink would have reacted in quite a different fashion, as apposed to how he did – Klink moved closer to him, his face printed with a look of curiosity. Hogan gazed up at him, sneering._

'_What's the matter, Kommandant? Haven't you ever fucked a Yank?'_

_Klink's lips parted, but no words came, only his hands, soon meeting with Hogan's hips. Hogan reacted, pressing his backside against Klink's crotch._

'_Is that a gun in you pocket Kommandant, or are you just excited to see me?'_

'_H-hogan, I…'_

'_Want my ass? I thought so.'_

_Klink's hands caressed the outline of Hogan's hardness, causing his body to jolt. Hogan took ahold of Klink's hands, guiding them around the noticeable outline of his hardened member, groaning slightly into Klink's ear. He could see Klink through the corner of his eye, so overcome with both curiosity and surprise, that he didn't know what to do with himself. All Hogan knew was, that something belonging to Klink was rubbing up against his backside._

_The feeling was unbelievable; Hogan, a man who thrived on control, was in the hands of his German Kommandant, his privates fondled by the kraut's very own hands. And he loved it. He loved every second of it. He had never felt such yearning to have another man rule him like this._

'_Hogan,' Klink exhaled, his body hot against the American Colonel's. 'We shouldn't be doing this...'_

'_Why not?'_

'_Because…'_

'_It feels good, doesn't it?'_

'_Y-yes, but that's –'_

'_Then why don't you shut up and fuck me?'_

_Klink's eyes widened. 'But, H-hogan –'_

'_And that's an order.'_

_Hogan had never seen Klink work at such speed – undoing his belt, followed by Hogan's. Although his hands were trembling, Hogan knew that was due to excitement. Klink was flushed in the face, as his bare hands met with Hogan's raw hardness._

'_Oh Kommandant,' Hogan groaned, thrusting into Klink's hand. 'More… More… I want you… I want to feel you… inside of me…'_

Hogan didn't have time to realise just how hard he was upon awakening that morning, for Klink had ordered him into his office, first thing. He was steaming over the rude message Hogan had sent him through Schultz last night, and was just about to blow his top at him. That was until Hilda asked for a word with Klink, no doubt telling him of her desire to marry him, without her father's permission.

'But, I thought you wanted to wait –'

'I have heard nothing from my father for months,' Hilda pleaded (to Hogan's great annoyance, Hilda had chosen to preform her little dramatic act in front of him), 'let's wait no longer, shall we? With all this uncertainty of the war… Who knows what lays around the corner… Let us marry within the month, yes?'

Hogan couldn't recall much else of the conversation, for he was grinding his teeth fairly loudly.

'What is that irritating _grinding sound_?' Klink grumbled, the black telephone close to his ear (he had called Burkhalter to tell him that their little party tonight would now be an engagement party, of sorts).

'No idea, Kommandant,' said Hogan, continuing to grind.

'Now, Hogan,' said Klink, his smile spread from cheek to cheek. 'I think, due to recent events, that we should forget all about last night's little misunderstanding, yes?'

'You're the Kommandant.'

'And, another thing, Hogan, I would much like it if you were to attend this party tonight, for you see, even though you are our enemy –'

'I was already coming, Colonel,' Hogan flashed a large, yet very fake smile. His heart was beating so quickly, he was almost sure Klink had heard it (over his teeth grinding, maybe). It was all happening too fast for him. Now Hilda and Klink were getting married, within the month. Hogan's stomach dropped, as though he were flying, and dropping, at a great speed. He felt sick. By now, he was sick of trying to convince himself he was in love with Hilda. He was sick of trying to convince himself he wasn't harbouring romantic feelings for Klink.

Klink was busily phoning 'friends' and colleagues, inviting them to their little 'engagement party' tonight. Hogan had to stop to remind himself that it _might _be an engagement party for Klink, but it was a secret interrogation by the Gestapo. Hopefully they couldn't sniff out suspected fags, for they'd round up Hogan for sure.

_You're not a fag. You like women. You've just muddled up confused feelings of affections for the Kommandant, that's all. Like a fatherly figure, actually._

_Except I never fantasised about being fucked by my father._

_Fucking damnit. _

'There's that _grinding sound _again!' Klink grumbled, coving the speaker piece of his phone with his hand.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

'So tonight, nothing suspicious,' told Hogan, that evening at the party, in the quiet of the kitchen. 'We're just guests at Klink's engagement/Gestapo interrogation party. Got it?'

'Oui,' LeBeau grumbled. 'Except _we _are not guests, mon Colonel. _You _are the only guest!'

'Yeah, why do we have to wait on the bloody krauts?' grunted Newkirk, pulling his white apron over his head. 'And we ain't even getting anything out of it!'

'Hey, hey come on now,' Hogan sneered, 'this is old Klink's engagement party! Everything's gotta go swimmingly – otherwise the Gestapo will think something's up. Remember, don't draw attention to you yourselves! Somewhere out there in that crowd of officers is a Gestapo agent, inspecting the _behaviour _of General Wolfgang.'

'What happens if their suspicions are true?' Carter asked, picking up a tray of alcoholic beverages. 'We won't know!'

'Look, I've made contact with that agent from the other week,' said Hogan, quietly, 'she's gonna tell us whether this Wolfgang guy gets cleared or not. If not, then we're gonna have to smuggle him out of Germany. As a military General, he could provide us with a lot of useful information.'

General Wolfgang soon arrived with Burkhalter and a number of other generals and colonels, looking just as Germanly strict as his comrades. If he was a queer, thought Hogan, then he was hiding it extremely well. He tried his best to ignore Klink and Hilda, who were showering the officers in burst of open affections. It made his insides turn.

'If she really feels that way about Klink, then I think the Colonel should just forget her,' said Carter, smiling as another officer took a glass of wine from his silver tray.

'Easier said than done, Carter my dear friend,' said Newkirk, his hands behind his back. 'What do you make of the Wolfgang bloke?'

'The suspect-'

'_Shhh_!' Newkirk roused, his finger on his lips.

'Uh, I think he looks pretty normal,' shrugged Carter, taking another glimpse of the German general. 'What about you?'

'Doesn't seem like a queer to me,' Newkirk said, 'but I guess you never know with them.'

Hogan tried to be himself. He tried his usual approach to the other German officers, with friendly joking and cracking wise, but that irritating giggle of Klink's and Hilda's was weighing on him, like a led of steel on his back. How long he could keep his fake smile up for, he didn't know. All he knew was, with every shot of whiskey, everything seemed slightly better. And by his fifth glass of wine, Hogan's world was beginning to spin.

He usually controlled himself with his alcohol intake, especially when attending one of Klink's little gatherings. But tonight, he seized the opportunity to a bit of emotion-numbing alcohol. After all, it wasn't him they were interrogating, right? It was that queer Wolfgang! Hogan had been hard at work for the past three weeks, he deserved a drink!

He deserved a drink, yes, but his sense of control seemed to have disappeared. By nine o'clock, Hogan was staggering around the room, slurring loudly, laughing defiantly (bagging Klink as much as possible to the other generals) and spilling his whiskey all over Klink's clean carpet.

'_Hogan_!' Klink roused.

'Hey,' Carter whispered, tilting his head in Hogan's direction. 'The Colonel sure does a good job of pretending to be drunk!'

'I don't think he's pretending, Carter,' Newkirk rolled his eyes, offering another officer a glass of wine.

'You mean he's really _that_ drunk?'

'Well, does it look like it to you, Carter?'

'Mmm, I guess…'

Hogan flopped down onto Klink's couch, spilling a glass of wine onto Klink's fine silk pillows.

'_Hogan_,' Klink lowered his voice, so the other officers couldn't hear him, 'what do you think you are _doing_!'

'Why, shagging your couch, Kommandant!'

Klink's jaw dropped, although he wasn't too sure what _shagging _meant, only that it was probably rude.

'I will not stand here and watch you make rude gestures to my couch! If you cannot hold your liquor Hogan, you and your men will be sent back to the barracks! Do you understand that?'

'Perfectly,' Hogan smiled, thrusting his hips once into Klink's couch. Klink's eyes widened, looking around quickly to make sure none of the other officers had witnessed Hogan's uncouth behaviour. Testingly, Klink leant down to Hogan, waving his bare finger around in his face.

'I'm warning you, Hogan! There are men from Berlin here, _powerful men_! I will not tolerate your childish behaviour! You are supposed to be my guest, and here you are, drunk as a dog, preforming, rude actions, on my _couch_!'

'Hey come on, Colonel, chill! Hogan muttered, sitting up. 'This is meant to be your engagement party! You're supposed to be enjoying yourself!'

'I _would _if you would stop embarrassing me in front of these _Generals_!' Klink sighed.

'Heh, you want embarrassing? You should hear about the dreams I've been having!'

'Hogan I don't care about your dreams!'

'Not even if you're in them?'

'Enough of this!' Klink straightened his back. 'One more hoot out of you Hogan, and you'll be spending a cold night in the cooler!'

'Couldn't be any worse than where I sleep now,' yawned Hogan. But Klink didn't have time to retaliate, for Hilda had taken his hand, leading him back to where General Burkhalter and the others were chinwagging. Hogan watched through squinted eyes. He fumbled to his feet, almost falling forward over the coffee table.

'Colonel, if I may say so,' Newkirk began, helping Hogan to his feet, 'I think you've had a bit much of the old juice.'

'Heh, not enough, you mean,' said Hogan, taking another glass of wine from Newkirk's silver tray, drinking it as though it were water. Newkirk winced; if Hogan continued sculling wine and whiskey at this pace, he would surely vomit. After all, it had been a while since any of them had had a proper drink. Their tolerance for liquor was next to nil.

'Congratulations, Colonel Klink,' said a fat general, raising his glass, 'your lovely Fraulein is quite a catch, indeed!'

'Why thank you Herr General!' Klink beamed.

'How long did you say the both of you have been, eh, _secretly _engaged?'

'Oh, around two years now,' said Hilda, attached to Klink's arm.

Hogan watched from the other side of the room, his hands crunched into fists. Newkirk and Carter decided it was safest to stick close to the American Colonel, for after consuming that much alcohol, he was liable to do anything, especially when the one he desired was right before his eyes, in the hands of another man.

Or in the hands of another _girl_.

'Come on, gov,' Newkirk whispered, tugging at Hogan's shoulder. 'I think we'd better tuck in, aye?'

'Yeah,' Carter followed Newkirk's lead, giving a loud, fake yawn, 'I'm pretty worn out myself!'

'Yeah? Well I'm all fired up.' Said Hogan, advancing forward, in Klink's direction.

'Now come on Colonel,' Newkirk attached himself to one of Hogan's sleeves, 'it's not worth causing an uproar, is it?'

'Yeah, especially in front of all these Generals,' said Carter, attached to Hogan's other sleeve. 'Anyway, that Gestapo agent is here, remember? You told us to keep our heads low!'

But Hogan was able to wriggle away from Carter's and Newkirk's grasp, stomping forward to Klink. Carter and Newkirk watched, unsure of what they should do next.

'Shouldn't we hold him back?' Carter asked.

'Unless you want his fist in your face too, I think we'd better stay out of it.'

'But if the Colonel does something stupid, he wouldn't hit us –'

'Carter, he's drunk beyond belief,' Newkirk sighed, 'he'd mistake you for a kraut in two seconds.'

'You know, you don't say very nice things, Newkirk.'

'Well well, touchy tonight, ain't we?' Newkirk huffed. 'Don't get your knickers in a knot, darling.'

'Yeah, don't use that cheesy talk on me,' Carter grumbled, rasing his tray as another German officer took a glass from it.

Hogan staggered between Klink and Hilda, almost knocking Hilda's glass from her hand. Snorting, Hogan straightened up his tie.

'Not interrupting, am I?'

'Well as a matter of fact –'

'Good good,' Hogan grinned, cutting off Klink's words. He leant up against Klink for balance, something Klink found quite suspicious. Wriggling him off, Klink turned to him, whispering through thin lips,

'Hogan. One more strike and you're out.'

'But we're not playing baseball!'

'_Hogan_!'

'Would you like to dance, Kommandant?' Hogan asked, airily. Klink's face wrinkled, watching as Hogan floated about, to the rhythm of _Beautiful Dreamer, _chiming away in the background. 'Or maybe Fraulein Hilda would waltz with me? Or maybe even General _Wolfgang, _where he may be –'

'That's it, Hogan,' Klink snarled through clenched teeth. Through the gatherings of generals and other officers, Klink dragged Hogan, trying his best to avoid attention. Hogan was drunk out of his mind. After Klink had a private word with him (a few very hot tempered words), he would shut him away in the cooler for the night. That would teach him for getting stupidly drunk, embarrassing Klink in front of his superiors! Embarrassing him in front of Hilda! Burkhalter! Klink shoved Hogan into another bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

'Boy, the Colonel's really gone and done it now,' said Carter, looking concerned.

'He's the one telling us not to draw attention to ourselves!' Newkirk whispered, shaking his head. 'And there he goes, blimin drunker than a mad donkey, blurting out General Wolfgang's name! Doesn't he remember that there's a ruddy Gestapo spy somewhere here?'

'Tsk, where is the Kommandant?' Schultz whispered, appearing from within the kitchen.

'Probably lecturing Colonel Hogan in the next room,' said Carter.

'Lecturing Colonel Hogan?'

'Drunker than a march hare,' Newkirk rolled his eyes.

'Oh, maybe it was because of the Kommandant and Fraulein Hilda,' whispered Schultz, crumbs falling from his little moustache, into Newkirk's wine glasses.

'No ruddy reason to get that plastered.'

Inside of the empty bedroom Klink had pulled Hogan into, the furious Kommandant stood, waving is finger about in the American Colonel's face.

'I warned you Hogan, and now your three strikes are up! Maybe a night in the cooler will sober you up!'

'I personally think that I'll sober up faster if I just went straight back to my barracks –'

'Forget it Hogan!' Klink spat. 'I have been very patient with you tonight. I invite you to a gathering of German officers – nothing to do with you _Americans_, the _enemy_, but us _Germans_, when I could have just left you to rot in your barracks! And how do you pay me in return? Dink yourself silly! Make a fool of me in front of General Burkhalter! Make a fool of me in front of _Fraulein Hilda_!'

'Aren't you already her _fool_?' Hogan sneered a crooked smile. Klink was not smiling.

'You know what, I really don't understand you, Hogan. If I were in your position, I would have appreciated the generosity of my commanding officer, allowing a _prisoner _of war to accompany a _German party –'_

'Come on now, Kommandant!' Hogan staggered forward. 'You're not really upset over this, are you?'

'As a matter of fact I am!' Klink puffed his chest out. 'All I asked from you was a little respect!'

_Well that's not all I want to give you, Kommandant_, Hogan thought, his eyes peering deep into Klink's blue ones. He looked positively devastated, standing there with his hands behind his back, squinting through his monocle. Hogan guessed he had made Klink out to be a bit of an idiot in front of his other officers, but then again, he always did! Even without him there, the other officers would still find Klink a fool! Surely Klink was used to this now? Or perhaps he really _was _embarrassed, in front of Hilda… Hogan's head began to dance. If he wasn't so sure that it wasn't, Hogan would have thought the room was spinning.

_You've had too much… You drank that wine too fast…_

Hogan had always been pretty good with holding his alcohol, especially whiskey, but he had no control over wine. Wine wiped him clean off his feat. He could keep drinking it like an ordinary soda, until it was too late to realise he was drunk.

Swaying from side to side, Hogan tried to keep his gaze concentrated on Klink's cross face, but that seemed like a mission in itself. At seeing Hogan's struggle, Klink's facial muscles tensed, his arms automatically out, ready to catch the Yank if he were to loose his balance.

Hogan caught his balance on his own, holding his spinning head.

'I don't feel so great…'

'I think you should be escorted straight to the cooler,' said Klink, trying to keep his firm tone of voice. 'You can pass out there. Tomorrow morning you will awaken to the consequences of your foolish drunken actions -'

Hogan fumbled forward, his feet unable to keep balance. Automatically, Klink stretched out for Hogan's unbalanced body, stumbling backwards as Hogan fell into his arms.

'Hogan!' Klink roused, his back up against the bedroom wall. 'Stand straight this –'

And that's when it happened. Through pure impulse, Hogan's dry lips met with Klink's firm ones, forcing his wet, warm tongue into the astonished Kommandant's mouth. Klink could taste the sweet wine on Hogan's succulent tongue, exploring every last inch of mouth. It was a kiss of such passion and lust, the very feel of having lips of these aspects on his own made Klink forget who's lips these belonged to.

Klink must have been so taken by surprise, thought Hogan, for he remained perfectly still, with Hogan in his arms for a total of four seconds, before forcing their lips apart.

For a moment, Klink stood in awe, obviously too taken back by Hogan's sudden actions of lust to comprehend what had just happened. It was then, Hogan broke his drunk, loving gaze, and collapsed to his knees. Klink was seemingly too rooted to the floor with confusion to assist him, as he began vomiting his stomach up.

'What is all the commotion about in here?' Burkhalter opened the door, flinching at the sight of a throwing-up Hogan.

Klink could feet his heart beat thumping in his ears. Whatever had just happened, he couldn't think about, not just yet. His hands were shaking behind his back. If Burkhalter had just come in a moment earlier…

Klink shuddered.

He had no time to feel disgusted in what Hogan did, for Hogan had just passed out on the floor, face first in his own vomit.

**Not very pleasant passing out in your own vomit is it LOL. But now Hogan has made some advances on Klink and I hope it excited you as much as it excites us LOL! It can only get better from here on! Next chapter once again will be updated weekly! So please make sure you leave a review :D we will be thrilled to hear from you! Thank you! Hope you liked! **


	5. Chapter 5

**New chapterrrr! Sorry if we kept you waiting too long xD Hope you enjoy it! **

Hogan forced a groggy eye open, the pain in his head spiralling down into his neck and shoulders. He could feel the hardness of his bunk mattress beneath him, the lumpy uneven hay doing little justice for his aching bones. He couldn't remember returning to the barracks last night – as a matter of fact, he couldn't remember _much _at all about last night. As Hogan slowly arose from his uncomfortable bunk bed, wiping the drool from his chin, he squinted around his office… What time was it? How long had he slept? The sun was clearly up; why hadn't he been summoned for roll call? Hogan, with the help of his rickety bunk post, helped himself to his feet, almost falling backwards. His legs felt like led. Aching led, at that. And now that he was on his feet, his brain seemed to connect with the horrible sickly feeling in his stomach. Had he really drunk that much last night? He still couldn't quite remember how he ended up back in his barracks…

Holding his churning stomach, Hogan staggered out of his office, lifting his flat black hair from his dark eyes, to see his men sitting around the table of the barracks, playing poker.

'… What time is it?' Hogan squinted, the daylight creeping through the cracks of the closed windows almost blinding him.

'Almost ten,' said Newkirk, peering down at his watch. Hogan's nose wrinkled.

'Almost _ten_? What the hell's going on? Why wasn't I woken up for roll call?'

'Cause Schultz came and counted us from here, in the barracks,' said LeBeau, placing his cards down. 'We have a bit of trouble, mon Colonel.'

'What trouble? I can't even _remember _last night,' Hogan held his head, the sound of his men's voices ringing in his ears. 'What happened?'

'You passed out,' said Carter, trying to repress a childish smile.

'I passed _out_?'

'Yeah,' Kinch added.

'I don't mean to be negative, sir, but you did drink a ruddy lot last night,' said Newkirk, testingly. 'At least you took the attention off of Wolfgang, anyway.'

'What happened to him? Did the Gestapo interrogate him?' Hogan staggered forward, taking a hot cup of coffee from LeBeau.

'Oui mon Colonel,' nodded LeBeau, 'and it didn't go too well I'm afraid.'

'What'd you mean?'

'I mean the ruddy poof is hiding down in the tunnel, Colonel,' said Newkirk, flexing his hands.

'_What_?' Hogan snorted into his coffee. Wiping the spilt coffee from his chin, he went on to say, 'What the hell's he doing down there?'

'He's with that British spy from the Gestapo,' said Carter.

'Yeah, apparently last night after the interrogation, Wolfgang panicked. He contacted that British Gestapo agent – Lulu – and she brought him here. He wants to defect to England, Colonel,' said Kinch.

'And he's a General, sir,' Carter added, 'has lots of military information for the allies and everything.'

'But, as great as it is, when was he last seen?' Hogan asked, finishing up his coffee.

'Last night, at the party,' said Newkirk, 'he left not long after you passed out. They saw him leave camp, and he checked into a motel in Dusseldorf. That's the last the German's have seen of him. Lulu brought him here last night.'

'Why wasn't I notified?'

'We're sorry, Colonel,' Carter began, trying his best to hide his smile, 'but we couldn't wake you. You were out stone cold!'

'Great,' Hogan grumbled, 'is that why we're confined to the barracks?'

'Gestapo are in there questioning old Klink about Wolfgang's where abouts,' said Newkirk.

'The krauts will be patrolling the woods around the clock,' grumbled Hogan, leaning up against the barracks' stove. 'We'll have to get Wolfgang out of Germany, but how…'

'But sir, you really think they would use that much time and man power to catch some poof?' Newkirk's nose wrinkled. Hogan gazed down at Newkirk, as though he'd said something Carter would usually say.

'If they thought a high ranking German General was going to defect to England with a bucket load of top secret military information, then yes, I think they would, Newkirk. Just because Wolfgang chooses to lead his life different than us men, doesn't mean he isn't a brilliant mind behind the German forces. We have to get him back to England as quickly as we can…'

'But how?' Kinch asked. 'It's impossible.'

'Why don't we just get all the information out of him, then throw him back out in the woods for the krauts?' Newkirk suggested, half jokingly. 'That would work.'

'Hey, that's not a very nice thing to suggest,' whispered Carter, giving Newkirk an unsure look.

'It's a disgusting thing to suggest,' growled Hogan, straightening up. 'This man is a human being too, you know!'

'I was only joking, Colonel,' Newkirk rose his eyebrows.

'This isn't the time to joke,' growled Hogan. 'This is a man's life we're talking about! And so he's an ex-kraut, and maybe he's a queer, but he's still a human being! He has the right to live!'

'I said I didn't mean it Colonel –'

But the sound of knocking coming from within the tunnel caused silence upon the barracks. With his head still aching from the night before, but his mind slightly clearer thanks to the coffee, Hogan raced across the barracks to the secret tunnel entrance, saying,

'LeBeau, watch the door!'

'Oui, mon Colonel!' said LeBeau, peering through the door. 'All clear for now!'

Banging the side of the bunk bed, Hogan watched as the boards folded away, exposing the entrance to the tunnel. There, he spied the double agent from the other night, her unhooded face showing her waving black hair.

'What are you doing up here?' Hogan warned. 'It's dangerous! If the krauts see you –'

'I had to find out what was happening!' she whispered, frowning up at the American Colonel. 'I have been down here for hours with General Wolfgang, waiting for a response!'

'Alright, alright,' Hogan rubbed his stinging eyes. 'Get back down. I'm coming down. You guys stay up here and keep a look out.'

Hogan began his descend into the tunnel, his bones continuing to ache. His stomach was still gushing around in circles, but he couldn't worry how groggy he felt just now. He had to talk to Wolfgang; he had to figure out how to get him out of Germany, and fast. At the moment, he was one of the highest ranking Germans on the Gestapo's wanted list.

And Hogan needed to talk to him, without his men. Although he was a defected German, Hogan didn't wish to bestow humiliation upon him. _Homosexuals _were still largely tabooed in both England and America, even if they didn't have death camps for them; Hogan didn't want to expose him to his other men, like an animal behind bars in a zoo. Of course, Hogan didn't agree with Wolfgang's way of life himself (if he _was _queer), but he wasn't going to hold it against him. He was a German general with a stack of information that would greatly help the war effort. That's the only way Hogan looked at it.

And he especially didn't have time to think of his bizarre infatuation with his Kommandant.

'So you're sure no one saw the both of you meet up?' Hogan asked, following Lulu's lead through the dark, oil-lamp lit tunnels.

'No,' she answered, 'but if I don't make an appearance soon, I'm sure to be suspected. The Gestapo think I've been questioning his friends on his where abouts, Colonel, so I must leave as soon as possible.'

'Yes,' said Hogan.

'Alois, it's me,' said Lulu, approaching a dark haired man, dressed in a Luftwaffer General's uniform, hiding among the shadows. 'I have Colonel Hogan with me.'

'Thank goodness,' said the General, stepping out into the light. Hogan recognised him immediately from the night before, although to him, he didn't seem _queer_. Then again, Hogan thought, he was a German queer, so he had to look _normal_.

'We're gonna try get you out of Germany as soon as we can,' said Hogan, his hands in his pockets. 'But _how_, we're not yet sure of.'

'I, I don't mean to pressure you, Colonel Hogan, but I must evacuate Germany as soon as possible,' pleaded Wolfgang, looking rather clammy. 'If, if the Gestapo gets a hold of me –'

'It's alright, they won't,' said Hogan, firmly. 'You'll be safe down here for now, until we figure away to get you out.'

'Oh, Colonel, how can I thank you?' Wolfgang asked, his hands clasped together. 'You have saved my life… You and Fraulein Lulu…'

'You're not out of Germany yet,' said Lulu, 'and I must get back to headquarters –'

'COLONEL HOGAN!' Hogan heard Carter's voice echo throughout the tunnel. 'QUICK, SCHULTZ IS COMING!'

'Look I have to go,' said Hogan, turning. 'General, stay down here and don't come up to the surface for any reason. Lulu, use the emergency exit but make sure the _coast is clear_!'

'I'm an expert at this stuff, Colonel,' said Lulu, nodding her goodbyes.

Hogan rushed back through the tunnel, climbing up the ladder and closing the entry _just _moments before Schultz stomped into the barracks, looking very glum indeed.

'Hey Schultzy!' Newkirk welcomed him. 'What's with that big old frown, then?'

'Erhh, I am not supposed to discuss it,' he sighed, 'but Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants to see you.'

'Isn't the Gestapo here?' Hogan asked, dusting his dirty hands off behind his back. Schultz exhaled an enormous sigh.

'They just left. They are searching for a General that went missing last night after the party.'

'Oh, what a shame,' Hogan smiled. 'And what does the Colonel want with me?'

'He is still very cross about your behaviour last night,' Schultz said, suppressing a grin. 'You behaved very naughty last night, Colonel Hogan!'

'Yeah so I've been told,' Hogan straightened his hat, 'alright Schultz, lead the way.'

So Hogan followed Schultz's lead across the prison camp, to Klink's office. Hogan's headache was slowly dissolving, but his bones (and for some reason) the side of his face were continuing to give him grief. If he had looked at himself in the mirror that morning, he would have noticed a large bruise across the side of his face.

Last night's events were slowly forming a puzzle in his mind, but many of the pieces were still missing. He couldn't remember passing out, nor could he remember the short time before that. It was blank, like a large hole in his memory. He could remember irritating Klink in front of his Officers, which brought a smirk to Hogan's sore face. Klink had been so desperate to prove his greatness in front of the other officers, and Hilda, but that didn't fool Hogan. He was still good old dim-witted Klink to him, even if he did have bizarre sexual fantasies about him.

_Dreams, bizarre sexual dreams, _Hogan corrected himself.

'Guten tag, Fraulein Hilda,' Schultz smiled as he entered the secretary's office. Hilda smiled back up at him, wishing him a good morning in return. Her dark painted eyes then fell upon Hogan. At first, Hogan thought he saw resentment in her glaring eyes, but upon seeing his bruised face, Hilda said,

'Why Colonel, what ever happened to your face?'

'My face?' Hogan repeated, figuring this was just a taunt. 'What's wrong with it?'

'You have a big bruise up the side of your cheek!'

'I do?' Hogan gently touched the side of his face, flinching at the pain. 'Ouch, I do! I never even noticed it until now. Didn't get into any fist fights last night, did I?'

'Not that I can recall!' Schultz chuckled. 'Uh, is the big shot free?'

'Yes, he just got off the phone then,' said Hilda, 'you may go in.'

Her eyes were still connected to Hogan's, and he was sure she wanted to say more, but didn't have the chance, for Klink had just opened the door.

'Schultz, didn't I tell you to – oh, you brought him,' Klink's voice dropped, upon seeing Hogan, standing across the room, his hands sitting in his pockets casually. 'Schultz you are dismissed. Colonel Hogan, I will speak to you in my –'

'I'm glad to!' Hogan sneered, strolling past Klink, into his office. Klink watched him through his monocle, an unsure look painted across his face. Slowly, he closed his office door, his eyes never leaving the happy-go-lucky American Colonel, as he leaned up against Klink's desk.

'What can I do for you, Kommandant?'

Klink had to take a moment out to think about how he would construct his words. Hogan had been so drunk last night, to the point of knocking himself out (in his own vomit). Klink had been beyond furious with him, up until the very last moment, when Hogan had planted a very big problem onto his very own lips. Since then, Klink's anger towards Hogan had been replaced with confusion. He was too perplexed to feel disgusted. But he had come to the conclusion that Hogan was so drunk, he didn't know what he was doing. He was an American flyer, who no doubt had his fair share of women at home, being the handsome, confident man he was, and after being confined to this prison camp for three years, his hormones were getting the better of him. Last night Hogan was drunk beyond words. He didn't know the lips he had kissed were Klink's. He didn't know the tongue he had entangled with was Klink's. And Klink somehow doubted Hogan would admit to such a crime, if he remembered it, that is.

'Do you remember our little party last night?' Klink began, his hands firm behind his back, pacing around his office.

'Oh yeah,' Hogan sniggered, 'one hell of a party, Kommandant! My thanks for inviting me!'

'Ahuh, ahuh. Now do you remember _leaving _the party?'

'Sure,' Hogan smiled, 'around ten, wasn't it? You said I was so well behaved and well mannered to the other officers, that you were gonna let me go into town this weekend on a pass, to show your gratitude!'

'HOGAN!' Klink boomed. 'I am not in the mood for your jokes! Especially after your poor behaviour last night! You were not only an embarrassment to me as Kommandant of Stalag 13, but you were an embarrassment to yourself! Drunk as a donkey! Slurring absolute rubbish and spilling your drinks all over my carpet – which your men will be cleaning! And then do you remember how you farewelled yourself?'

'A couple of friendly waves and a few kisses to the Frauleins?'

Klink shuddered slightly at Hogan's words, but figured that the American really _couldn't _remember what he had done. And Klink wasn't going to remind him. No, actions like that were forbidden in Germany. Why, merely _thinking _about monkey business of that kind was forbidden! If anyone were to know…

_No one will ever know, _Klink decided_. _It was much better if Hogan couldn't remember what he had done. After all, Hogan would be sly and cunning enough to turn the entire story around and have Klink to blame, and Klink wasn't going to chance that. Why, there were _prisoner _camps for homosexuals, the Gestapo and the SS were quite keen on ridding impurities of their wonderful Third Reich, and Klink certainly didn't want to tangle himself in that mess. No, he was going to keep his mouth closed. He was marrying Fraulein Hilda. The Gestapo had nothing to suspect of him!

'No, Hogan. Let me _remind you_, shall I?' Klink frowned. 'After you made a fool of yourself in front of not only _my _fellow comrades, but your _own_, you threw up and passed out, face first in your own vomit.'

'Say, really?' Hogan raised his eyebrows, in fake astonishment. 'So that's why my face is bruised!'

'And you _were _going to spend last night in the cooler,' Klink began, clearing his throat, 'but after you passed out, your men persuaded me to have you sent back to your barracks, until you gained consciousness.'

'Ah, how very kind of them –'

'But now that you are conscious and have seemingly _recovered _from last night's little escapades, you will face your punishment!'

'Oh come on now, Kommandant!' Hogan tittered, turning to peer outside of Klink's open window. 'I was only celebrating my favourite kraut's engagement! Is that really a crime?'

'Well if you could see how you acted last night, _you _would call it a crime, yes!' Klink grumbled.

'How could you drink yourself stupid like that, Colonel Hogan? You could have poisoned yourself!'

'Well I haven't had a drink in a long while, Kommandant,' Hogan shrugged, 'I thought I could handle it! But I guess we all make mistakes, even _me_.'

Klink gazed across the room, at the image of Hogan, leaning up against the windowsill, his head hanging out of the window, looking as casual as anyone could be. How could Hogan sustain such admirable levels of confidence? Klink had always admired Hogan for his confidence, carefree attitude and of course, his stubbornness. They were qualities Klink himself always wished he had; Hogan was a loveable guy, with his cruisey American outlook and handsome looks. He was also highly intelligent, Klink knew that, even if he was the enemy. And yet, he was still Klink's prisoner. He hadn't managed to break out of Stalag 13 successfully. Klink sometimes wondered why. Was he really that great of a Kommandant? Or was Hogan just playing him for a fool?

Klink didn't much like thinking about the possibilities of Hogan playing him. He didn't like thinking about the possibilities of many negative things, actually.

The German Kommandant shook his head slightly; he was watching Hogan with too much feeling.

'What's my punishment, then?' Hogan asked finally, wondering why Klink had taken so long to speak. Perhaps he hadn't thought of one yet? Hogan sniggered at the thought.

'Thanks to _you_ Colonel Hogan, you _and _your men will have your rations halved for two weeks. The recreation hall is banned for two weeks. All prisoner activities are banned for two weeks. And, you and your men will be cleaning the mess you left in my quarters!'

'You mean you left my vomit there for me to clean up?' Hogan winced. 'But it was in your bedroom, wasn't it?'

'_I _didn't sleep in there last night, did I? And yes. It is staying there until you clean it up.'

'Oh but sir, that's disgusting! It would have dried by now –'

'The harder for you to clean up! Now you are dismissed!'

'But sir –'

Hogan's mind suddenly came to a standstill. Klink's bedroom… A sudden memory of Klink pulling him into his bedroom began playing before his eyes, like a moving picture film. Hogan couldn't remember what they were talking about, only that Klink was threatening to throw him in the cooler for the night… Hogan remembered loosing all balance in his legs and collapsing into Klink's arms…

_Oh god no._

Hogan's eyes widened. He could see it in his mind; foggy, but seeable. His own lips, colliding with Klink's. His tongue, caressing Klink's. His body tangled with Klink's. He shuddered; no, surely, he was confusing a silly dream with his drunken state of mind, right? That couldn't have happened! Surely it couldn't have happened! Klink would have slapped him off the moment he tried something! Unless of course, his Kommandant was too taken back with surprise… Or he welcomed it?

_This. Is. So. Bad_.

Klink was staring at him, his blue eyes searching the strange expression on Hogan's face. Could Klink see Hogan was thinking about the mistake he had made the night before? And it if had happened, why wasn't Klink yelling at him for it? Why wasn't his Kommandant having him thrown in the cooler for tabooed behaviour, or shot for misconduct? Or maybe, Klink was just as confused as Hogan, and thought it was safest not to mention it at all. Pretend it didn't happen. Hogan had to take a deep, discreet breath; he was sure he was going to throw up again.

'Hogan, what's the matter with you?' Klink squinted. 'Your face is all flushed! Are you feeling ill again? Because if you are – get out of my office – I'm not having that filth fume up this room too –'

'No, no I'm alright,' said Hogan, finally, 'for a moment there I thought I was going to throw up. Can I have a glass of water?'

'What do I look like, a lunch lady?'

'Would you like this room to stench of vomit?'

'Alright alright I get the water,' Klink grumbled, opening his office door, 'Fraulein Hilda! Could you please fetch Colonel Hogan a glass of water?'

'Yes, mein Colonel,' Hilda replied.

'You see, Hogan, you Americans have no respect for alcohol,' Klink waved his hand, 'you drink yourselves silly on fine, expensive liquor and what happens to it, huh? You vomit it up – in _my _bedroom! Of all places!'

'Hey I didn't choose to throw up in your bedroom,' Hogan mumbled through his glass of water, 'it just happened!'

'Well it will never _happen _again because you will _never _be attending another party! Not while you are prisoner here at Stalag 13!'

'Aww, not even for you and Hilda's wedding?' Hogan smirked. He had to smile. He didn't want to, but he did. He didn't want to think about Klink marrying Hilda, but what choice did he have? He was lucky to be alive, if anything! If that Gestapo agent last night had seen him with Klink… They would _both _be in death camps. What was he thinking? Why on earth had he thrown himself on the German Colonel like that? He could only barely remember Klink's reaction… He could remember the bitter strong taste of schnapps in Klink's mouth, when their tongues danced roughly…

Hogan squirmed slightly, reluctant to believe the mere memory of his and Klink's forbidden rendezvous had turned him on so quickly. Wishing to dismiss his hardness as quickly as he could, Hogan immediately sat himself in Colonel Klink's chair.

'Hogan!' Klink growled. 'You are sitting in my chair!'

_Would you rather see me with a hard-on?_

'Why, this is _your _chair?' Hogan gasped in fake amazement. 'How long have you had it?'

'EVER SINCE THIS CAMP OPENED UP!' Klink shouted. 'Now Hogan you are _DISMISSED_!'

Confident that his member was now limp enough, Hogan saluted Klink before dashing out of his office, trying his best to keep the dirty memory from his mind. The thought of it brought a wave of both disgust and excitement to his chest; kissing his Kommandant shouldn't have felt so good.

'Colonel Hogan,' Hilda rose from her chair, upon Hogan's appearance.

'Mmm?'

'Do… do you want some ice, for that bruise?'

'Nah, it's alright,' said Hogan, 'all I have to do is go stand outside and wait for a chill. That wind is colder than any ice pack.'

'If you say so… Wait, Colonel.'

'Yes?'

'… Was the Gestapo agent at the party last night?' Hilda whispered. 'The one wishing to confirm that suspicions of the Kommandant's lifestyle choices aren't true…'

'How'd you know there was a Gestapo agent there last night?' Hogan asked.

'Carter told me,' Hilda smiled a little, 'I just hope the Kommandant is cleared…'

'Well he will be for sure when you marry him,' said Hogan. And before Hilda had the chance to reply, Hogan had strut out of the building, anger replacing that conflicting feeling of excitement. Hilda was going to marry that damned kraut. And of all the krauts in Germany she could have married, she chose the Colonel Klink; the one man Colonel Hogan desired.

And Hogan still couldn't figure out why he desired Klink. He was still getting his head around accepting feelings of romance towards another _man_, let alone Klink! He couldn't answer himself _why_! Klink wasn't remarkably attractive. He wasn't extremely intelligent. He wasn't much of a Colonel, he was going bald and he was at least fifteen years older than Hogan. So why did he want him so badly?

_I don't want him. I'm just confused, that's all_.

But Hogan knew he was lying to himself. He guessed sometimes emotions and feelings of romance towards other people just couldn't be controlled. You can't control who your heart desires, can you?

**(SCENE CHANGE) **

'So Klink's punishments overall weren't _so _bad?' Carter asked, upon Hogan's return to the barracks.

'It could have been worse,' said Hogan. Well actually, it _couldn't _be any worse! Well, it _could_ be… It was only a matter of time before Klink cracked, thought Hogan. Klink couldn't resist asking him what motives were behind his tabooed actions. It would eat away at him. Klink would think about it over and over, trying to justify the infamous kiss… Hogan guessed Klink would just assume it was because he was beyond drunk, but something told the American colonel that the Kommandant of Stalag 13 would want to hear it from his own lips. Hogan shuddered at the very thought. Klink would suspect him of being a homosexual, worst case scenario. And Hogan would love to put his suspicions straight, but his pride was standing in the way.

_He'll crack. He'll have to ask me about it sooner or later. Until then, it didn't happen, right?_

'Wolfgang still in the tunnel?' Hogan perked up, realising he had been quiet for too long.

'Oui sir,' said LeBeau, rubbing his hands together. 'Carter just talked to him, didn't you?'

'Well he seems like a nice guy,' Carter shrugged, 'for one of _those_…'

'You mean a blimin poof,' huffed Newkirk, 'growing fond of him are we Andrew? Don't drop the soap, now.'

'You know, just because he's _like that_, doesn't mean he's thinking about other men all the time,' grumbled Carter, in obvious embarrassment to Newkirk's statement. 'You can't not like someone just because of who they find attractive!'

'Oh, have I touched a nerve, Andrew?'

'Now listen here –'

'Alright you two, pipe down,' Hogan muttered, standing between Newkirk and Carter. Why, he had his own demons to fight, he didn't need to hear Newkirk and Carter arguing about interaction with queers. 'Save your energy for figuring out how we're gonna get this Wolfgang out of Germany.'

'Any ideas yet?' asked Kinch.

'Oh about fifty useless ones. Not with those damned patrols zooming up and down the woods. No, we're gonna have to wait until the heat dies off.'

'Fat chance of that happening any time soon Colonel,' said Newkirk, 'after all, he was one of Germany's finest generals, so to speak. And he was last seen in this area! The Gestapo will be on us like leeches, mark my words. And if we're found hoarding poofs! Well –'

'We're not gonna be found hording poofs,' Hogan growled. 'And stop referring to Wolfgang as though he's some kind of parasite! He's very important to us! But the thing I'd like to know is why Wolfgang panicked… I thought the party was going rather well…'

'It was probably 'cause you mentioned him by name,' said Carter, casually shuffling a deck of cards. Hogan, who had his chin balanced upon his knuckle in thought, squinted in Carter's direction, confused in his latest statement.

'Come again?'

'I said, it might have been because you mentioned his name last night,' said Carter, slowly. Now realising the Colonel was watching him through keen, yet astonished eyes, Carter had no choice but to continue. 'When you were drunk, sir. You said something about dancing with Klink or Hilda or General Wolfgang. You shoulda seen his face when you said his name, boy was he –'

'Damnit!' Hogan cursed, pacing back and forward. 'So it's my fault he got spooked! Didn't he know I was just a stupid, drunk prisoner?'

'Well when you've got the Gestapo breathing down your neck, I guess you've gotta be suspicious of everyone,' said Newkirk. 'But it doesn't matter much now, Colonel!'

'Yeah,' LeBeau nodded, 'now we have him converted to our side, with a barrel full of German general secrets!'

'But what about the _real _Gestapo agent there?' Hogan growled. 'They would have heard me…'

'No offence, gov, but you were so off your nutter last night, I think the krauts made it their business not to pay attention to you,' sniggered Newkirk.

Hogan knew Newkirk was probably right, but that still didn't ease his worry. He had drawn attention to himself, dancing stupidly, mentioning two suspected homosexual kraut's names, tonguing Klink in the next room… He shivered, in both disgust and pleasure.

'Anyway men, if you don't mind, I think I might lay down for half an hour,' Hogan muttered, holding his head. His spinning headache had suddenly returned.

'Alright, Colonel,' said Kinch.

'Oh, and thank you guys for persuading Klink to bring me back here to the barracks last night, instead of the cooler,' Hogan said, through a half laugh. The men looked at one another, Carter piking up first.

'Uh, we didn't persuade him Colonel,' he said. 'It was his idea.'

Hogan pretended he hadn't heard Carter as he shut his office door. The last thing he needed was to feel _more _fond of that damned Klink.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

Klink could barely believe his own ears when Colonel Hogan had told him Fraulien Hilda was _madly in love _with him. At first he thought it was simply one of Hogan's tricks to make a fool out of him in front of his secretary, but when Hilda had confirmed these rumours of deep affection herself, well, Klink had been completely blown away! She had been in love with him, for all this time? Well, she certainly did a good job of hiding it! Klink had tried his best to woo her on a number of occasions, but never really succeeded. And now, she was cradled in his arms, lips locked, positioned comfortably on Klink's freshly cleaned couch (he had forced Hogan and his men to clean his entire quarters earlier, and they had done a marvellous job, he must admit).

And still, last night's events were clouding his mind. Before him lay Hilda, her perfectly groomed blonde hair within his hands, her darkly painted eyes battering into his. Their lips colliding in exquisite acts of love. And Colonel Klink could only think about that damned American officer, collapsing in his arms, and forcing his tongue down his throat.

Klink pulled back from Hilda's warm lips, having to remind himself that this was in fact Hilda he was on top of.

'Is anything wrong, Wilhelm?' she asked, tilting her eyebrows.

'Oh, uh, it is nothing, my dear Hilda. I'm just extremely tired this evening. With the Gestapo questioning and monitoring the prisoner's clean up, well it's taken a lot out of me…'

'I understand, Wilhelm.' Hilda smiled, gently pushing herself up from the couch. Well, Klink had half expected her to offer him something of _stress relief_, but was also half glad that she didn't. After all, the last thing Klink needed to do was accidentally picture Hogan while Hilda was doing _that_.

But she could at least have asked. Maybe she was glad for an excuse to leave? Klink smiled to everyone who congratulated him on their _secret _engagement, but secretly, he questioned the whole scenario. After all this time of displaying little next to no interest in him, suddenly Hilda was _desperately _in love? Klink decided it was better not to question it. After all, it was sometimes dangerous to ask questions, especially in his army.

'I will see you tomorrow morning, darling,' said Hilda, pecking Klink goodbye. He walked her to the staff car and saw her off, right until the staff car was out of sight. His relaxed glance then fell on the very barracks of Colonel Hogan, giving him a shiver. Any kind of fraternization with the prisoners was forbidden; especially _kissing _them.

_He kissed me! I didn't kiss him!_

But _why _did he kiss him? Why? It was eating away at Klink, like a woodworm in a plank of wood. He knew sooner or later he would have to question Hogan on his actions, but how? How was he going to ask Hogan something like _that?_ Oh yes, by the way Colonel, _why _did you kiss me the other night? Remember, before you passed out in your own vomit?

Klink shivered; Hogan would laugh right into his monocle at such an outlandish accusation. Even if he _did _remember doing it, Klink highly doubted Hogan would admit it. No, Hogan was a man of pride. A _straight _man of pride. He was the _last _person Klink would expect to engage in forbidden acts with people of the same sex! No, Hogan was a ladies man. A charmer. A good charmer at that.

_Realistically. Not my personal opinion_.

Klink shuddered to think that he _might _have enjoyed what happened last night. After all, he'd never had such a kiss like that. He'd never tasted another man's lustful lips. He was sure it was lust he tasted in Hogan's lips; an emotion he thought he had never received. Even when Hilda kissed him…

No. This was wrong. Klink's insides swirled. This was disgusting. This was forbidden. He was revolted by his own subconscious thoughts. If he had felt any excitement towards last night's events at all, it was because Hogan had displayed a side of him never before seen. A submissive side. A side that proved he _wanted _Klink. Klink was _needed_.

And so Klink tried his best to sleep that night, tossing and turning in his comfortable bed. It was a cold night; Klink had rugged himself up tightly. He already had two blankets on the bed, maybe he should fetch a third? He was shivering. And if he was shivering, the prisoners were surely shivering. And that meant Hogan.

'Bah, who cares if Hogan freezes,' Klink muttered to himself, searching through his wardrobe for an extra blanket. 'He deserves to freeze!'

But Klink didn't really mean that. He often felt sorry for the prisoners, having to sleep in those cold, lumpy beds, with no pillows to support their heads. No wonder they all complained of crook necks during morning roll call.

But they were prisoners of the Third Reich! He couldn't feel sympathy for enemies of the Third Reich! But then again, they were only human.

By two-thirty, Klink had given up on sleep. His tired, yet wide awake mind kept accidentally pasting together images of both himself and Hogan engaging in tabooed acts. His mind kept slipping in and out of half awake and half dreaming realms, each time jolting with a start.

'Schultz!' Klink bellowed, crawling out of bed.

He couldn't wait until morning. He had to see Hogan now, and sort this mess out.

**A bit of a cliff-hanger here LOL sorry :D but there are some slight goodies coming up in the next chapter! Reviews are very much appreciated ^_^ ! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Heyyy, Sorry guys for not posting in a little while I lost track of the weeks LOL. Anyway here is another chapter! Hope you like it. I will post another chapter on Friday for you all to make up for the chapter I missed. ENJOY! And pleaseee leave a review.**

Hogan lay staring up at the pinup poster of _June Haver,_ wondering why he would still maul her if she were to walk through the door right now, _if _he supposedly desired Klink. You shouldn't still want to make love to _Joan Leslie _and _Ann Miller _if you had sexual fantasies for your bald kraut Kommandant, right?

_Dreams. Sexual dreams Dammit_!

And yet Hogan did still fancy women. Why he'd _always _fancied women. He never even _thought _about men in the same way he thought about women. That was until a few weeks ago, when he had first dreamt of seducing Colonel Klink. Maybe he'd been in the camp too long now? Maybe he could plead insanity to London and escape home? But he couldn't leave his men. He couldn't leave Klink.

'Colonel Hogan!' Hogan jumped at the sound of Schultz's loud voice, echoing throughout the barracks. 'Colonel Hogan!'

'What the heck are you trying to do Schultz!' Carter whined, burying his head beneath the blankets. 'Waking a man up in the middle of the night! Boy!'

'Yeah what's the big idea Schultz?' Newkirk grumbled, his complaint joined by a gang of grumbling men. But Schultz simply ignored their taunts, opening Colonel Hogan's office door.

'Colonel Hogan!' Schultz boomed.

'Alright, alright I'm awake Schultz!' Hogan forced a pretend yarn, arching his back. 'What on earth are you doing waking us up at _this _hour of the morning? Don't tell me the old bald eagle has put forward some new kind of roll call –'

'That old bald eagle wants to see you, Colonel!' said Schultz, straightening his back. 'In his quarters! He says it's urgent!'

'What can be so urgent at this time of the night?' Hogan grumbled, staggering out past his men.

'Heh well I can think of a few things, gov, all in which _you _don't qualify for, not for old Klinky anyway,' Newkirk laughed, followed by a few others. Hogan rolled his eyes at Newkirk's comment, hiding his embarrassment behind his lowered hat. What _could _Klink want with him at this time? Well Hogan could only think of one thing…

'I'll be back soon,' said Hogan, disappearing into the night's cold.

Schultz walked Hogan to Klink's quarters, gesturing his fat hands for Hogan to enter.

'You got any idea what this is about Schultz?' Hogan asked, playing it safe.

'No idea, Colonel.'

'I thought that much.'

So Hogan entered, swallowing his nervousness. And he _was_ nervous, that wasn't an understatement. Why he didn't even feel this nervous when he was _captured_! Now however, if Klink went about this the wrong way, the both of them could be shot.

Standing before him in the sitting room was Klink, monocle in his left eye, his body wrapped up in thick layers of pyjamas. Hogan tried his best not to smirk at the sight; for some reason, it was just amusing to see Klink in his pyjamas.

'What's the big idea?' Hogan put on an angry tone. 'Waking me up in the middle of the night! Don't tell me you've brought me here to mop more vomit! Because I cleaned mine –'

'No I have _not _brought you here to mop more _vomit_,' said Klink, peering at Hogan across the room. 'I have brought you here, because I cannot sleep.'

'Oh _great_! Want me to help you count sheep?'

'No!' Klink roused. 'I cannot sleep because there are certain issues left undiscussed!'

'Oh really? With whom may I ask, Kommandant?'

'You!'

'Me?' Hogan asked, in fake surprise. 'Why me?'

He knew exactly _why him_, but he had to play it dumb for as long as possible.

'About what happened last night!'

'Oh haven't we discussed that already?' Hogan dug his cold hands into his pockets. 'I told you Kommandant, I got drunk. I haven't had any to drink in a long while, and that takes its tole you know –'

'No it's not how much you drank, but what you did _while _you were drunk!'

'I know I know, I vomited, I apologised –'

'Something happened before that, Hogan,' Klink lowered his voice. And Hogan knew his fears had become reality; Klink wanted to address the matter of the _kiss_. That's what this was all about.

'And what was that? Kommandant? I told you, I can only remember snippets of what happened! Me throwing up and passing out is completely blank!'

'I don't think it is Hogan,' Klink shook his head slightly. 'And I think you are playing dumb with me.'

Hogan wondered whether Klink had suddenly gotten smart, or whether his acting skills had deteriorated. He knew Klink could see straight through him; Hogan was shifting his eyes around nervously. He'd spoiled it for himself. He had just dug out his own grave. And what was the point denying it anymore? Surely he could talk his way out of it.

'Okay,' Hogan said slowly, taking a deep breath. 'I think I know what we're talking about.'

'And don't try to deny - wait, what?' Klink's heart skipped a beat. He was so certain Hogan would remain with his original story – that he couldn't remember anything.

'You do?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'Then what _are _we talking about?' Klink frowned slightly, wondering whether Hogan was really about to admit his shameful behaviour. Shameful, yet undeniably thrilling.

'Something I did before I threw up,' said Hogan, taking Klink by surprise. Hogan knew Klink would have thought he'd stick to his 'I can't remember' story, so decided to attack him on a different angle. Besides, it meant something that the memory of Hogan's lips on his own stopped him from sleeping, right?

'You, you remember? But you said –'

'I know what I said, Kommandant,' Hogan took one step closer. Klink automatically took one step back. 'And it was true, until later on today of course, when I got my memory back.'

'Got your memory back?' Klink's voice was unstable. What was Hogan going to do, confront him? Would he try and turn the story around, so it looked like Klink took advantage of him?

'Look, Colonel,' Hogan began, 'I was drunk. _Very _drunk. I didn't know what I was doing. My hormones were running wild, locked up in this prison camp for three years, dry of action! You should know how I feel, Kommandant!'

'Well I must admit – _Hogan_!' Klink warned, his back up against the wall. He didn't know what to do or say next; he hadn't expected Hogan to actually _admit _to it! Now what?

'I bet you've never experienced anything like that before,' Hogan forced a laugh, figuring it was best to keep the entire situation light and friendly.

'Something I have never experienced, yes. Something I would like to experience again? _NO_! Hogan, do you understand what _happened _last night? Do you know the consequences of crimes like that in Germany are? You know I can have you _shot _for this!'

'Yeah, you could,' Hogan shrugged, casually, 'but if I told them it was a consented kiss, then we'd both be shot, right?'

'_Hogan_, how can you _joke _about this?' Klink shook his head, in awe. He was in a state of confusion.

'Well, Kommandant, how else should I handle this? I'm not exactly _proud_ of what I did, you know!' Hogan growled. 'Look, it was just a stupid mistake. I barely even remember doing it, okay? Anyway, this stays between you and me, right?'

'Right,' Klink nodded slowly. 'But don't you dare think for a moment that you have outwitted me, Hogan. Next time something like _that _happens, I will order for you to be court marshalled and shot!'

'What?' Hogan grumbled, unimpressed with Klink's _tough _act. 'For showing my Kommandant a bit of affection?'

'Don't _say _things like that!'

'Why? Because it makes you think? Gets your little brain ticking?' Hogan sneered. 'Does it bring back to mind visions of what happened last night, and how you wish to experience them again?'

'_Hogan listen to yourself_!' Klink said in a very low, serious voice. 'I am not putting up with this outrageous behaviour! I know what this is! Yes, I see _straight _through you, Colonel Hogan!'

Hogan jerked his head around, looking behind him.

'Well that can't be too healthy, if you can _see through me_ –'

'Stop this nonsense! This is an obvious attempt to escape!'

'_What_?' Hogan asked, half annoyed, half amused. It was just like his dream… Klink had said something _just _like that in his dream, before… No. Hogan couldn't. He had to contain his ranging hormones. Klink was nothing more than a silly, balding Kommandant, dressed in a navy blue nightgown. He was no prize. He was no June Hover.

And if he wasn't, then why was Hogan moving forward? He was acting upon impulse; Klink's back was up against a wall, just like it had been last night. As Hogan approached him, Klink stood perfectly still, trying desperately to read his actions.

'You stay away from me Hogan!' Klink whispered, through trembling lips. 'I'll call Schultz!'

'Call him then,' Hogan purred.

_What am I doing_?

And that's when Hogan's lips met with Klink's, for a second time. Klink had been so taken back by surprise (again), that he had sucked the air right out of Hogan's mouth. Their lips remained together for several moments, until Klink forced them apart.

'… H-hogan,' Klink slowly shook his head, his blue eyes connected with the American officer's deep brown ones. 'Hogan _why_…? And you're not even _drunk_!'

'… I want you, Kommandant,' Hogan breathed; Klink shuddering as Hogan's hot breath pressed up against his own lips. 'And I don't know why.'

Hogan figured Klink was far too dumbstruck to do anything. He simply stood there, hunched up against the wall, mouth wide open like a fish, staring into Hogan's eyes, searching for a justification to _why_. Maybe it frightened Klink most of all that perhaps Hogan wasn't faking this? Why _else _would Hogan fake this? Klink was gob smacked. There had to be a deeper motive, right?

'You _want me_?' Klink slowly repeated. 'For _what_?'

'I want _you _full stop, don't you get it?' Hogan growled, his nose pressing up against Klink's beak. '_I. Want. You._'

'Hogan you are acting _very _strange,' said Klink, his mind beyond questions. 'And I will not stand for this forbidden behaviour! You are a disgrace to not only your country, but this camp! How _dare _you violate me in this manner – I will have you shot for this!'

'Oh yeah?' Hogan sneered, his lips only centimetres from Klink's. 'Well before that, I think you had better get rid of _this_.'

Klink's body convulsed. Hogan's hand had just collided with Klink's crotch, outlining his accidental hard-on. Flustered, hot in the face, Klink forced Hogan off of him, his tongue dry and wordless. He hadn't _meant _for that to happen – it just _happened_. The shock of having Hogan practically on top of him had obviously brought it on. Or maybe because it was early morning? Klink didn't know. All he knew was, his excuses were sounding pretty poor.

He couldn't speak. Nothing seemed to exit his moving lips. Klink felt utterly stupid, crumpled up against the wall like that, hands across his crotch, flushing madly. It felt as though he were in school, all over again. Except nothing like _this _ever happened when Klink was at school. No way.

Hogan couldn't believe what he had done; he would be shot, without a doubt, regardless of whether he had excited Klink or not. He felt so disgusting – so revolted in his own dirty desires. Yet, no matter how strong the feeling of repulsion towards his actions were, they couldn't overwrite his feelings. If it had just been a silly fantasy (sick fantasy, more like it), Hogan wouldn't have felt so good, locking lips with Klink like that. His eye twitched. He was practically dead.

'Go,' Klink said finally, in a weak voice. 'Back to your barracks. You are dismissed.'

'But Klink, I'm sorry I didn't know what –'

'I said _dismissed_!' Klink repeated, giving the American colonel a quick salute, before marching straight into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Hogan felt rooted to the ground. What had he done? What did Klink think of him now? A sick Yankee poof? Would he report him? No, surely not… They would try to pin the blame on Klink as well. After all, Hogan knew old blood and guts wasn't very well liked among the other officers…

He felt so deserted. And he hated feeling like that. Hogan never relied on anyone. No, the only person you could rely on was yourself, right? Otherwise, if you place your trust in those around you, you're sure to crash and burn, yes?

Hogan hated feeling so submissive.

**(SCENE CHANGE) **

'What the ruddy hell did Klink want at this hour?' Newkirk grumbled, upon Hogan's return.

'Yeah, what business does he have, waking us all up at this time of night,' Carter sighed. 'It's a crime!'

'It was nothing, fellas,' Hogan said, removing his hat. 'Anyway, we'll talk about it in the morning.'

But when that next morning came, everyone had forgotten about last night's little intrusion. Roll call panned out as normal; Hogan played his role as the carefree American Colonel exceptionally well, in comparison to Klink's strict German Colonel act. He strutted around before the prisoners in his usual manner, warning them to abort any escape plans and such, avoiding eye contact with Hogan as much as possible. Hogan didn't know what he was feeling; disgust, excitement, dread – he felt all three. He didn't even know what he wanted out of this. Yeah, he desired Klink, sure. But what if he _did _spend a night in the Kommandant's quarters, what then? Would that be it? Was he just longing for a one night stand with the pathetic Colonel? Surely that was _all _he wanted, if anything. It wasn't like he wanted Klink as a _partner_, surely not. When the war was over, he would go back to America, find a decent girl and marry her, forgetting all about this, this revolting behaviour. Yes, that's what he would do.

But something he needed to do first was to get General Wolfgang out of Germany without the German's knowing. And this was proving a difficult task, for the Gestapo were desperately searching for him.

Tired, Hogan and his gang piled back into their barracks, cold and groaning. Hogan had barely slept a wink that night before, and he was feeling edgy and grouchy. He was half mad at himself for being unable to control his filthy lust, half mad at Klink for reacting the way he had. But, then again, could he really blame him? What would Hogan have done if _Klink _had backed him up against a wall, throwing himself onto him? Well, if Hogan was _sane_, he would have kneed Klink hard between the legs.

'Okay we need to figure out how to get Wolfgang out of the country before he gets captured. But the problem is, how and when. It needs to happen soon… If only we could get rid of those patrol units…'

'We could make some kind of distraction,' suggested Newkirk, 'make something happen that draws their attention away from old Wolfie.'

'Yeah, but the question is, _what _could be more important than trying to capture a traitor General who holds valuable military information?'

'… An attempt to assassinate Hitler?' LeBeau said, pouring Kinch a coffee. 'Or maybe a plot to bump off one of the higher ranking officers?'

'Mmm, you might be on the right track with that,' Hogan rubbed his chin, his mind swimming. He was trying to formulate a plan to get Wolfgang out of Germany, but all he could think of was Klink's hard-on in his hand. That, of course, came with an annoying tightness in his pants. 'I'm just gonna spend a few moments alone in my office, fellas. Just some quiet time to think. My head's been all over the place.'

Luckily for him, his men figured his _swimming head _was in relation to Hilda. Understanding, the guys let the Colonel reside in his office, believing he was using the time to cool off.

But that wasn't the case at all. Hogan had ignored his erection all night, his mind too disgusted to release himself. But it was irritating, not having fixed himself up. His groin was throbbing, heat radiating off of his inner thighs. He didn't have to think of Klink. No, he had posters to look at. He _wouldn't _think of Klink. But what he said and what his mind saw were two different things. He rested back upon his bunk, unzipping his brown pants, exposing his raw hard-on. He took the pulsing external organ into his hands, beginning to slowly massage the tip with his fingers. A gentle moan escaped his lips at the sensation; it felt good, but he knew it could feel better. His hand movements began to fasten as he cupped his balls, his eyes closed. He didn't want to think about it, but the increasing feeling of pleasure knocked down his walls of disgust. There he was, lip-locked with Klink, his hands eagerly rubbing against the Kommandant's erection. Klink gasped at Hogan's actions, allowing him to unzip his blue trousers. Hogan took Klink's stiff manhood into his hands, tugging it over and over while the German officer moaned in delight. Klink's hands returned the favour, grabbing onto Hogan's and squeezing. Hogan's body convulsed; his member spewed out a line of warm, white liquid, all over his hands and lower shirt.

'Damnit,' Hogan cursed, peering down at his stained shirt. He went to grab a tissue, but tripped on his loose pants legs, dangling down around his ankles. Crawling to his feet, Hogan figured it would be just easier to change his shirt, instead of trying to clean off his stain. Besides, the stain _was _rather large.

His body was relieved, but his mind wasn't feeling so good. Something was lingering, a strong feeling of repulsion. He had just gotten off to a fantasy of him and Colonel Klink. He had just gotten off to a fantasy of him with another _man_. That was something to feel disgusted about, without a doubt. He felt so dirty, so revolting. He wanted to get away from himself; he wanted to escape his own skin, his own sickening brain. He had to wash his hands, immediately.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

It had almost been a week since Klink had been confronted with Hogan's ghastly feelings in his quarters, and Klink was sure he hadn't thought about anything since. He was so confused, so _bewildered_. He couldn't even convince himself it had _actually _happened. Not Hogan; not heterosexual Hogan. There had to be something else to it, thought Klink. Hogan must be planning something. There was no way he desired Klink, it just wasn't possible. For starters, he was a _man_, an older man at that. And he was the _enemy_! What the hell was Hogan thinking? Didn't he _know_ he could be shot for behaviour like that? Klink knew Hogan wasn't stupid; Hogan knew what the consequences were for that particular type of profanity… And yet, he still did it. Klink could not work it out. He was completely and utterly lost. It made no sense whatsoever. And even _worse_, Klink had given him the wrong idea. Of all the times to get erected, Klink's member decided to _pop _up just as Hogan violated him. But, even though Hogan had done that to him, Klink couldn't admit he hated him. He couldn't even admit he was disgusted – but then again, he was too _confused _to be able to feel any other emotion.

Klink paced about his office. He had barely spoken to Hogan for seven days now. They had talked, on and off, casually, the usual wise-cracks from the Yankee Colonel, but nothing intense. Klink didn't want to be in the same room with him, alone. Who knows what could happen…

_Nothing would happen because I wouldn't let it_!

Klink's mind was spinning around and around. What if this got out? He would be shot. No, he would be worse than shot, he would be castrated and shot! He shuddered; he would rather not think of that. Through his office's open window, Klink spied Hogan, running about the camp, playing football with his fellow prisoners. The Kommandant's heart pinged; did Hogan's men know of his tabooed fantasies? Or better yet, were they _in _on Hogan's little prank? Maybe, they had no idea. Maybe Klink could use this against Hogan to get more information out of him! Klink's stomach dropped; no, he couldn't do that. He couldn't abuse Hogan's feelings like that, even if they were repulsive. That's if they were _real_, anyway.

Hogan was so carefree, so _normal_. How could he have a burning desire to be with an older man? Klink couldn't figure it out. He was handsome, young, an Air Force Colonel… What could he possibly want with an old Luftwaffe Colonel? Maybe the pressures of prison life had gotten to him. Perhaps he had finally cracked. Klink couldn't see any other logical reason.

_Maybe he had a strained relationship with his father. Yes, that must be it. _

But Klink doubted it. Regardless of how strained Hogan's relationship was with his father, it shouldn't turn you queer. Especially Hogan. Why, Klink couldn't think of another man so _unqueer_. It was like a rollercoaster swirling around in his brain. He just couldn't understand it.

Klink watched as Hogan leant down, picking up the football at his feet. He was undoubtedly attractive, Klink couldn't deny that. Even though he was straight, he could appreciate male beauty. Hogan was so perfectly built; his frame held a manly, muscular essence. Then there was Klink, who was scrawny and knobbly. He always had been, even as a child.

Klink's monocle almost fell from his eye the moment he'd realised his eyes were focused on Hogan's backside. Secretly ashamed, Klink went to straighten up his monocle, when Hogan turned, catching his eye. Both shocked and embarrassed, Klink slammed the window pale shut, his cheeks burning.

_What a mess I am in_.

'Kommandant Klink?'

Klink almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Hilda's voice. He swivelled around, facing the pretty blonde woman. His heart beat returned to normal.

'Yes, Fraulein?'

'Colonel Hogan is here to see you,' she said. Klink's stomach dropped. He hid his fidgeting hands behind his back as Hogan pranced into the room with his sly, yet casual smirk. Klink's lips were moving, but no words seemed to exit. He couldn't be alone in the room with Hogan! No, he might pull a fast one on him again! Nervous, hands trembling like a little child, Klink said,

'Very well, Fraulein Hilda, leave the door open, please.'

'Uh, yes, herr Kommandant…'

'Heh, what's the matter?' Hogan sneered, his hands in his pockets. Klink couldn't believe how Hogan could feel genuinely amused about this situation. He was mortified. 'I'm not gonna _jump_ you!'

'Leave the door open, Fraulein Hilda!'

'Tsk, aren't you looking after him right?' Hogan asked, peering down at Hilda. Still seemingly unimpressed with the American, Hilda shrugged slightly, before leaving the doorway. Passing it off, Hogan returned his gaze to Klink, who was standing next to his table, body as stiff as a board.

'State your business and get out, Hogan.'

'Well sir, I was wondering whether you'd judge our sock knitting contest this weekend.'

Klink stood in complete awe. How could Hogan bother him with something like this? Especially when the Kommandant had _other _things on his mind. Other things that seemingly didn't bother Hogan.

'NO!' Klink boomed, startling the younger Colonel. 'How dare you prance in here and annoy me with such, such _silly _requests! Dismissed!'

'So you won't judge our sock knitting contest?'

'NO! You are _dismissed_!'

'Why do you keep ignoring me? What did I ever do to you?'

'What did you ever do to _me_?' Klink's monocle almost fell from his eye. He was about to shout, telling Hogan how confused he was, how frightened he was, but nothing seemed to happen. Instead, he stormed across the room, slamming his office door shut. Casually, Hogan rose his eyebrows, a sly look on his face.

'Oh _now _who's shutting the door? Not gonna jump _me_, are you?'

'HOGAN!' Klink grinded his teeth. 'Why are you doing this to me? Do you despise me that much?'

'Despise you?' Hogan's nose wrinkled. 'I thought I made it pretty clear the other night –'

'Do not speak of the other night!' Klink said, warningly. 'What is going on inside of your head? Do you realise how sick this is? This is so wrong, Hogan! There is something wrong with you, if these, these ludicrous desires of yours are in fact real! It, it _sickens _me to even _think _about what happened the other night! I always knew you were trouble, but never to this extent! I will give you one more chance, Hogan. Although your behaviour has repulsed me beyond belief, I will let it slide. I believe you are suffering some sort of break down, some kind of mental explosion. And mark my words, I will be having you looked at by a doctor. This must never be spoken about. One more chance, Hogan.'

Hogan was standing in Klink's office, but he didn't seem to notice it. He tried with all his might not to look affected by the words Klink had spewed upon him, but his ajar mouth and crestfallen face were indeed noticeable. His heart was beating painfully, his chest aching from the pressure. The German Colonel had just made his feelings loud and clear. And Hogan was upset, why? What the hell had he expected? Klink to welcome him with open arms? What bullshit. Hogan swallowed a very dry gulp, taking his eyes off of Klink. He couldn't bear to look at him, not now. He knew he was doomed the moment his lips touched with Klink's the second time. He knew Klink would be revolted by his unholy desires. Still, Hogan didn't want to hear it. He wished he hadn't stopped by Klink's office at all.

Klink wasn't the smartest of men, but he could clearly read the hurt plastered across Hogan's face. It made his chest ping, but he wasn't sure why. Hogan was the enemy. Who cares if his feelings got hurt? _Feelings_. Klink's mind was still an atmosphere of fuzzy brain waves. It was just too hard to comprehend. Hogan was looking up at him, those handsome deep brown eyes so shattered.

_Not handsome_.

Klink withdrew his stare, returning to his chair, picking up his cup of tea. He didn't want to deal with this anymore. He didn't know _how _to deal with this anymore. With what was left of his strength, he said, 'You may go. Dismissed.'

Hogan reluctantly nodded his head, slowly making his way across the floor. Just before leaving through Klink's office door, Hogan turned to face Klink, saying,

'I hope Hilda doesn't choke on that dick of yours.'

Klink dropped his teacup, dark tea splashing everywhere.

**More confusion in this chapter from Hogan AND Klink, but it will get better xD I promise I will post up another chapter on Friday, and I hoped you like this one enough to leave a review! We loveee reviews! Please do so! Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Reallyyyy SORRY that I have not updated in MONTHS! I was going to have more up for Christmas as a present but it came and went so quickly! I've recently got a job that has taken up most of my time, plus I'm studying at tafe. But enough about my boring life, and onto the fanfic! I reallyyy hope you enjoy this chapter! Just a warning, it's juicy…LOL! Nicely juicy for your long wait! Also, just wanted to mention in the beginning of this chapter there is a bit of Newkirk/Carter, just for some people out there that are fans of that pairing. Anyhow, ENJOY and let us know what you think by dropping your review! **

'You know, you spend anymore time with that blimin' poof, and you'll turn into one,' Newkirk grumbled, making his way through the dark tunnel. Carter, who was at his heals, made a scoffing sound. He was growing sick and tired of Newkirk bagging Wolfgang and his _kind _at every chance, even after Colonel Hogan warned him not to. Carter didn't understand it; yeah, fair enough, it wasn't a way of life _he _would choose personally, but you couldn't discriminate Wolfgang for it, right?

'You know, if everyone was just nice and accepting of one another, we'd never have wars in the first place.'

'Oie, bit touchy there, aye Andrew?'

'I'm just tired of you knocking down Wolfgang at every turn, that's all. Just imagine how he feels.'

'I can't help it if I find him blimin' foul, can I?'

'But can't you just accept that that's his choice of lifestyle? I mean, if you were in his situation –'

'Well I never would be, would I?' Newkirk turned to face Newkirk, his forehead laced with sweat. 'Look, can we give the poof talk a rest, Carter? We've gotta get down to Kinch, to drop the old Gestapo a _friendly_ tip on Wolfgang's whereabouts. The sooner he's out of here, the better. You might start talking normal again. Then again, maybe not.'

'… Don't you ever get tired of bagging people? Doesn't your conscience ever keep you up at night?'

'Carter, shut up, just walk.'

But Carter could only stay silent for so long. He couldn't help it; he was a talker. He couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. Newkirk was what he considered a close friend, and it bothered him that he never paid him one single complement.

'… You know, maybe if you talked to him –'

'I ain't talking to no blimin poof, Andrew!' Newkirk spun around, nose to nose with Carter. Sheepishly, Carter cowered back, forcing a goofy grin. Newkirk usually found it hard to stay mad at Carter. He was just like a little boy, with a brand new toy. Such innocents he had. Newkirk secretly admired it.

'Why are you so interested in him, anyway?' he said, finally.

'I've just never met someone like _that _before, it's just interesting.'

'What the ruddy hell could be so interesting about a kraut who wants to chew on cods and wangers?'

'Gee Newkirk, you didn't have to be so graphic…'

'Well it's true. And if I were you, I'd stop talking about all that nonsense. People will 'spect you're going fruity. Now then, shall we continue?'

'But, don't you wonder how life must be, for them? What stuff they would have to hide, and, and all of that? They could never really be happy…'

Frustrated, Newkirk returned his gaze to Carter. Carter winced, expecting the Englander to wallop him hard over the head for pressing on the subject. But, instead, Newkirk stood stationary. His blue eyes reflected the dim candle light, lightening them up just enough for Carter to read his mixed emotions. Newkirk's facial muscles relaxed, his frown slowly dissolving into his forehead. Carter figured he was just about to make a sarcastic gesture, to catch him off guard. But this wasn't the case. Newkirk's lips parted. The young American flinched at the feel of the Englander's hands, grasping his shoulders. He was sure Newkirk was about to shake the air out of him, but what came next completely took Carter by surprise. Newkirk's lips met with Carter's, sending a violent shiver down the American soldier's spine. He was too taken off guard to even comprehend what had just happened. The sensation of Newkirk's warm lips pressed up against his was one of the weirdest feelings Carter had ever felt. But before he could question it, pull away or enjoy, Newkirk broke their kiss, looking flustered.

'There you go, Andrew. That's what it would feel like being Wolfgang. Now shut up, I never wanna hear about that poofta again.'

Carter swallowed, nodding his head. He didn't even realise he was in the dim, damp tunnel beneath Stalag 13. For all he knew, he could be on the moon.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

'My my, _Wilhelm_, you are incredibly tense tonight. Shall I attend to that, yes?'

Klink sat on his couch, shirt unbuttoned, Hilda kissing his neck, whispering into his ear. He shuddered, her touch gentle and delicate. She caressed his chest, planting little kisses over his cheeks as her hand slowly began its journey south. Klink jolted.

Even with Hilda rubbing the crotch of his pants, all he could think about was Hogan. Hogan laying there in his barracks, feeling stupid, feeling ashamed, feeling disgusted. He tried to push those thoughts from his mind, but Hilda's repetitive hand movements kept bringing them back. She made him feel good, there was no doubt about that. But the pressure of Hogan's hand forced up against his hardened member had felt so much better. Klink stopped himself, his mind shouting _sick sick sick sick_. He gently pushed Hilda's hand from his growing erection.

'Fraulein Hilda, my dear, I'm not sure we should be doing this tonight…'

'Oh but Herr Kommandant, you need to _relax_. Let me do it for you, yes?'

Klink didn't get the chance to say no; Hilda had unzipped his blue trousers, exposing his erect manhood. This couldn't be so bad, thought Klink. Why this was every man's _dream_! To have a beautiful Fraulein willing to pleasure their man! What the heck was Klink afraid of? It wasn't _Hogan _between his legs, lips wrapped around his length.

Klink's body jolted once more, for Hilda had just taken him into her mouth. He wasn't exactly used to such pleasure; he bragged to the prisoners and the other officers of his satisfactory love life, but he knew that was far from true. He could probably count the number of times he'd been laid in his life on one hand. Well, maybe two hands, he couldn't remember. Nevertheless, it _had _been a long time.

Hilda's tongue worked wonders on Klink's member, delicately tracing it over his most sensitive spots. But as he flopped his head back and relaxed his hips, the image of Hogan came to mind. How would _Hogan _preform such duties? Did he have experience with other men? Probably not, thought Klink. But he bet it would feel somewhat better than Hilda's mouth work.

Flinching at his own thoughts, Klink sat up, about to beg Hilda to stop. He didn't want anymore of those disgusting visions seeping into his mind. It was ruining his moment! Damn that Hogan.

Misreading his signals, Hilda sped up her hand movements, wondering whether the Colonel was really going to finish of this quickly. Surely not. But before she could ask, warm, bitter salty liquid sprayed into her mouth, taking her by surprise. Pulling back, Hilda spat Klink's fluid into a tissue, unable to swallow. Red, hot and embarrassed, Klink sat up, zipping up his pants and helping Hilda to her feet. She only stayed a few moments more, before leaving him, covering up her amusement. Klink had barely lasted two minutes. What a fool he must have looked like.

_Damn you Hogan_!

No, he wasn't going to blame Hogan. He _couldn't _blame Hogan. Hogan didn't do anything, right?

_No, he just tattooed that awful memory to my brain. _

He felt so unclean, having Hilda do that to him. He felt so guilty, like he had done something wrong. But there was no way he was going to admit these feelings were because of Hogan.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

Hogan sat in his office, pretending to sound overjoyed at the news Carter had just delivered him. Wolfgang had just landed safely in England five minutes ago, and sent his thanks to the gang at Stalag 13. Hogan forced a smile and congratulated Carter and the men for a job well done, but declined their offer to celebrate the safe passage of an important German General to the allies. Instead, he hid inside his office, the words Klink spewed on him earlier tightly gripping his heart. He was more angry with himself than Klink. For being so damned emotional. Hogan hated being emotional. It was so feminine, so unlike him.

'Are you sure you won't join us Colonel?' Carter asked, standing before Hogan. Hogan looked up from the novel he had been pretending to read, shaking his head with a small smile.

'No thanks, Carter, I just need some time to myself.'

'I understand, sir,' Carter nodded. But he didn't leave. He fidgeted about, like he wanted to ask something, but wasn't sure how, or whether he should. Noticing it immediately, Hogan said,

'What is it, Carter?'

'Uh, nothing, sir.'

'Then, without sounding rude, why are you still here?'

'W-well, it _is _something, sir, but, I-I don't know whether I should talk about it.'

'I am your commanding officer, Carter, I do have a duty of care. You know you can talk to me.'

'I know Colonel, but, it's just, I dunno…'

'Well if you're not ready now, you can always come back and talk to me when you are.'

Hogan sensed the desperation in Carter's eyes, the strong look of confusion. He had witnessed the same look the other night when he threw himself on Klink.

_Get a grip. He's not gonna ask you if you've gone queer. _

'It's just… Something _happened _before, and I just don't know what to make of it see…'

'What happened?'

'Um… you know, Colonel, I think I'll talk to you some other time,' Carter grinned like a child, his hands in his pockets. 'I don't even know myself what I'm talking about.'

'Well if you feel that way Carter, that's fine. Talk to me when you're ready.'

'Alright, Colonel. Good night.'

Hogan tried not to give much thought to Carter's nervous behaviour. He probably just ironed a hole through Newkirk's jacket, or something like that. No, Hogan had too much to think about himself. I.e., _why _he fancied Klink. He'd asked himself that question a million times, and he _still _couldn't answer it. Maybe it was the sense of danger that attracted him? Yeah, the forbidden nectar of the _other _side. Maybe it was because Klink was just so darn hopeless, that Hogan pitied him. Well, he might be the enemy, but after spending every single day with Klink for the last three years, he had developed feelings for him. Not the _good _type. Anything but the good type. Maybe it was just a weird, wild sexual fantasy?

_No, that's just wrong. _

There had to be something else. Why, _Newkirk _was better looking than Klink, and younger too. But Hogan couldn't look at him and feel turned on. He never had, and he never will. His cursed eyes were dedicated to the bald iron eagle.

Hogan frowned at his own thoughts. How was he ever going to get away with this? How was he ever going to fool Klink into believing his little lies and plans? He was better off escaping back to England. But he couldn't. He couldn't leave his men. He couldn't leave _Klink. _

The door swung open; Hogan jumped, looking to hide his illegal stuff. He then remembered, his _thoughts _were the illegal stuff. He went to rouse on whoever it was who had entered without knocking, when his eyes met Klink's.

'Hey, haven't you heard of knocking? I coulda been jacking off in here!'

Klink winced, closing his eyes and shutting Hogan's door. He was hunched up, shivering, his hands covered in those black leather gloves. Hogan sneered at how he had made Klink uncomfortable.

'Do not _say _those sorts of things, Hogan!'

'Well it's true! Anyway, what do I owe the pleasure?'

'I was, just making a surprise inspection roll call!' Klink fumbled. Hogan snorted a laugh.

'And that requires you to come in my office and shut the door?'

'Yes.'

'Well, fine with me, but I dunno how you're gonna count my men from _in here_.'

Hogan's mind was racing; what did Klink want? Why was he acting so nervous? Was he going to transfer him to another camp? Was he going to dob him into the Gestapo? Was he going to have him _shot_? Or perhaps he just _was _having a surprise inspection? Hogan couldn't get his stomach knotted up. He had to play it cool. He had to tone down his desperation.

'So, all present?' Hogan asked, eyes returning to his book. Klink frowned.

'How can you act so casual about this?'

'About what?'

'About _this_!'

'You doing a roll call from my office with the door shut? Well I just have to trust your sanity –'

'_Hogan_!' Klink stomped his foot. 'Be serious for once in your life!'

'About _what_? You aren't giving me any clues, sir!'

'ABOUT what happened the other _night_!' Klink tried to control his voice. Hogan looked up from his novel, his eyebrows risen. His lips curled into a crooked smile.

'What's there not to be casual about? You made yourself clear on your feelings, I don't hold any grudges. What's the problem? I thought we already discussed this today.'

'I am still not understanding!' Klink hissed. 'I still don't know _why_!'

'Is it such a _crime _that I find you irresistible?'

Klink threw his hands over his ears, blocking out Hogan's smooth voice like a child would. He didn't need the American Colonel talking in deep, soothing tones. What he said was bad enough. Amused by Klink's behaviour, Hogan returned to his book, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. This was the safest way to play it, he thought.

'Yes it is a crime!' Klink spat. 'You aren't supposed to find me _irresistible_! You are supposed to fear me! Obey me! _Despise me_!'

'Well if you _want _to play kinky, then fine –'

Klink blocked his ears again, frustrated beyond belief.

'_You _have a one track mind, Hogan! I'm arranging for you to get some supervised time in town so you can _rid _your mind of these unhealthy fantasies!'

'_My _unhealthy fantasies? Who was the one taking a good look at my ass today –'

Klink covered his ears.

'I _wasn't _doing that! I was simply supervising you and your men playing football! After all, you never know when one of you deranged people will make an escape attempt!'

'Why would I wanna escape from here?'

'Because that's what _normal _soldiers should want! Ahh, I see it now! This is a plan of yours, isn't it, Hogan? You've run out of all other escape plans, so now, in your desperation and insanity, you've thrown yourself at me –'

'Don't kid yourself, Kommandant. How the hell would me telling you how much I want you on top of me benefit to an escape plan?'

'HOGAN, I WARNED YOU BEFORE –'

'Yeah yeah keep your voice down, will yah? I'm just being honest with you.'

'No you're not,' Klink wiggled his finger warningly. 'It's a sabotage plan. You know how us German's view the queer, so you've degraded yourself, pretending to find me _irresistible _so you can frame me and expose me as a traitor! Well I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan, but this little scheme of yours isn't going to work! Because I will never consent to your sick behaviour! You can throw me up against the wall all you like, but –'

'Well, if you insist!'

'No, no Hogan I didn't mean –'

But before Klink knew it, his lips were pressed up against Hogan's, his back up against the barracks' wall. Klink's muscles were limp for only a moment (Hogan had practically sucked the air right out of his lungs). Regaining his strength, Klink tried forcing the younger Colonel off of him, but he struggled; Hogan was well built. They wrestled, Klink's scrawny arms doing him little justice. Hogan kissed him with such passion, such lust. No girl had ever kissed him like that. No girl had ever shown such willingness to be with him.

Hogan's hormones were gushing through his body like an instant drug; he had acted on impulse again, his subconscious refusing to believe Klink found no enjoyment in their engagement. His heart was pounding. Klink was trying to push him off, but Hogan felt the Kommandant could do better. He wasn't sure whether it was wishful thinking, but Klink wasn't fighting him off as well as he probably could.

Klink would never admit to it consciously, but the whole episode was stimulating him, like someone had sent an electric shock of pleasure through his body. He shouldn't be feeling like this; Hilda had just fixed him up two hours ago! He shouldn't have this unholy excitement.

Klink's arms were tiering, his lips tired of trying to avoid Hogan's advances. He couldn't back down; he couldn't let Hogan win. Hogan always won. He always left Klink the loser.

But Klink could hardly say he felt like a loser with Hogan's hand massaging his crotch. His brain cursed; he was hard. Hogan would think he was _enjoying _this; Hogan would think he _wanted _this. And he wasn't enjoying this! Of course he wasn't! Even _if _his manhood was throbbing beneath Hogan's touch. Hilda had never made him feel like this. No woman had ever made him feel like this. Hogan was in control, but at the same time, so was Klink.

Whether it was three years worth of built up anger and frustration, Hogan didn't know, but it felt _amazing_. He'd never kissed a girl like this, even after weeks of being dry. He couldn't think straight. His sexual enthusiasm had taken over his body.

He noticed Klink's arms weakening; now the Kommandant wasn't fighting back so much, Hogan could focus his hand on Klink's crotch. An accidental moan escaped Klink's mouth, hitting Hogan's keen ears like smashing glass.

'Come on, Kommandant,' Hogan purred into Klink's ear, his hand rubbing the hardened outline in Klink's trousers. 'Don't deny me, I won't escape, I promise…'

'… H-hogan, this is so wrong –'

'Your dick says otherwise. Come on, sir, I'll do whatever you tell me to. I'm yours.'

He tightened the grip on Klink's manhood, sending shivers down Klink's spine. He was trying to control himself, he was trying to keep his excitement to himself. If Hogan heard him moan again…

'Don't tell me you're not enjoying this,' Hogan whispered in his hoarse voice. Klink suddenly understood why so many girls desired Hogan.

'I-I'm not,' Klink found his voice. He tried to find something to say, like warning Hogan he would be thrown in the cooler if he didn't stop, but the words never came. Instead, a river of gasps flowed out, when he realised Hogan had unzipped his pants, revealing his stiffened member. He felt dizzy, as though he was about to pass out. Hogan's hands were violating him, but he was powerless to stop him. Even if he did warn him, threaten him, _he _didn't want Hogan to stop. Something soon daunted on Klink; perhaps this was normal? After all, it was wartime, and there weren't a lot of women about. As if Hogan was the only prisoner of war wanting some _attention _from his Kommandant? It didn't make either of them queer; they were just starved of satisfaction and love, right?

'H-hogan,' Klink moaned, Hogan licking his neck. 'Hogan, Schultz is j-just outside… I-if he was to… to w-walk in…'

'Don't ruin it, sir,' Hogan whispered, his body raging with adrenaline. Klink's arms were no longer fighting him; they were wrapped around him. There was such a sense of defeat in Klink's voice that made Hogan's heart ping. He didn't want Klink to feel _defeated_. He wanted Klink to feel _good_. He had an incontrollable lust to prove himself to the Kommandant. He didn't want to fool him around. He didn't want to _frame _him. He just wanted him. For what reasons, Hogan still didn't know, but he wasn't going to waste time thinking about it. He had Klink's aching manhood, hot in his hands.

Hogan was aching too; the tightness in his pants was becoming unbearable. But he had to control himself; he might frighten Klink off if he were to unzip his pants. Klink was liable to freak out. He didn't want that, not after how had he had worked to get him like this.

'Hogan…'

'Mmmm?'

'…W-why...'

'How many times I gotta tell you, Colonel? Because I _want _you…'

Hogan's hands moved with such passion, such power, Klink wasn't sure how long he could hold off. What was he thinking? He couldn't let Hogan bring him to climax! But it was going to be hard to fight off; Hogan seemed to work his sensitive spots much better than Hilda had. Without realising it, Klink forced his hand through Hogan's hair, receiving a moan from the American on top of him. Hogan's mouth returned to Klink's, his tongue entangling with the shaking Kommandant. His monocle fell from his eye, but this went unnoticed, for Hogan was groaning too loudly into Klink's mouth.

He couldn't relieve himself, and it was driving him insane. He could feel his underwear dampening with pre cum. All he had was Klink's leg to rub up against.

Klink sensed Hogan's throbbing length, wondering why he hadn't released himself, forced it into the Kommandant's hands. He half considered acting upon Hogan's frustration, but was hit with a wind of confusion. Why should he be helping _him _out? He was violating _him_! He tried to remind himself of this, but it kept fading from his mind. Hogan's hands were just too good.

Hogan glanced down to Klink's manhood, genuinely surprised at his size. He wasn't as thick as Hogan, but for that he made up in length. He began wondering what it would _feel _like, taking a man's penis into your mouth. He wondered how Klink would react, if he were to act upon his fantasy, but figured it was too dangerous. If Schultz _were _to waltz through the door, it was less obvious if they were standing on their feet, as apposed to Hogan's head sitting between the Kommandant's thighs.

Klink could feel how much he'd pre cummed, for Hogan's hand was moving up and down as though coated with lotion. His face was flushed, hot to the touch. He could see Hogan's was too. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

'… H-hogan, s-stop it,' Klink breathed, trying not to sound so dramatic, 'Hogan if you keep going… I, I don't think I c-can… hold… it…'

'Just let go,' Hogan purred, sucking on Klink's earlobe. 'Don't hold back…'

'B-but Hogan…'

'Come on Kommandant, come for me. Show me how you run this camp.'

Klink's body convulsed several times, squirting his warm seed all over Hogan's leather jacket. At the sight of Klink quivering beneath him, part of Hogan orgasmed as well, but it was a frustrating and unsatisfying feeling. Having no real friction on his penis besides Klink's leg, Hogan couldn't experience much of a climax.

It was nothing compared to Klink's. He couldn't even begin to describe the feeling; it was as though an explosion had gone off. No one had ever made him climax in such a way Hogan had. Klink panted, his legs shaking.

Hogan glanced up at him, his dark eyes laced with desire. He hadn't been kidding; he _actually _wanted Klink. Klink was without words.

'What were you saying, sir? Something about, _never consenting to my sick behaviour_?'

'I, I never consented,' Klink breathed, his hands shaking. 'You… you…'

'I suggest you reconsider my offer, _Kommandant_.' Hogan smirked at the mess the Kommandant had left on his pale brown shirt, amused by the look on Klink's face.

'I hope you don't mind my request for more soap next washday?'

Klink found it hard to believe Hogan could joke at such a time. The commanding rank prisoner, _his _prisoner, had just given him the best hand job he'd ever had. And now he was joking about soap? Klink zipped his pants up and went to straighten up his monocle, when he realised he _had _no monocle. It was on the ground, shattered.

'Oh, I'm sorry, sir,' said Hogan, picking up the Kommandant's broken monocle.

'I don't understand you, Hogan,' Klink grumbled, snatching his monocle.

'Mmm?'

'How can you act so _normal _after, after, whatever happened!'

'Well with all due respect, sir, I'm not the one up against the wall, shivering. Are you cold?'

'Of course I'm not cold!'

'Then, I'll take it as a compliment?'

Klink wanted to retaliate to Hogan's happy-go-lucky attitude, but he couldn't. Hogan was beaming up at him, with such happiness, such satisfaction. And he wasn't even the one who got the hand job. Something inside of Klink weakened. Maybe he _did _have feelings for the American Colonel. How could he have _let _him give him a hand job, if he despised him? As an enemy? Klink snapped back into reality; Schultz had just opened the door.

'Sorry, Kommandant, I just wanted to report that everyone is present and accounted for.'

Klink couldn't believe how close they had cut it. If Schultz had walked in a _moment _sooner…

'Very good, Schultz,' said Klink, straightening up his coat. He tried to ignore Hogan's smiling face, in the corner of his eye. But he could hardly help it.

'Awww, you broke your monocle!' Schultz shook his head, _tsk tsking_. 'Did you drop it –'

'Yes yes, I did. Our business is done here, Schultz. I'm freezing. Let's go.'

'Good night, Kommandant,' Hogan said. Out of Schultz's eyeshot, the American boy gave Klink a wink. Klink's body shivered; he said it was the cold, the disgust he was feeling towards Hogan. But they both knew that wasn't true.

**A nice juicy chapter was it not! Hope it has satisfied those of you who have been waiting! There will no doubt be more juicy bits to come xD if you're all reading this that is LOL. Let us know what you thought of this chapter by reviewing! We need to know who is still reading this and wanting updates, so please review! THANK YOU ALL! A late Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all for what I missed! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys I knowwwww itssss beeeeen sooooo longggg! I am SOOOO sorry about the huge gap in between updating! It was one of those things where it was on the to do list to update but just never happened. Trust me, that is over now LOL. There will be plenty more updates to come, and much sooner believe me! I hope you've all been well and are still following and/or still interested in this story! Please drop a review to let us know if you are and want to see the rest of this story! Thank you for taking the time again to read this! Very sorry again guys, the wait and pain is now over! Here is another chapter! ENJOY!**

Klink hadn't slept a wink that night. He was tired beyond belief that morning, strutting up and down the camp, warning the prisoners and such. Though he wasn't thinking of discipline and command. He was thinking of damn Hogan. The American Colonel was standing in his usual spot, arms crossed, grinning up at Klink like a five-year-old holding a secret. And a _very _big secret at that. Klink's anxieties were racing. Had Hogan talked to his men about what had happened last night? Had he _bragged _about how he had the Kommandant of the toughest POW camp in Germany up against his office walls, literally _begging _for more? No, Klink knew Hogan wouldn't do that. He _hoped _Hogan wouldn't do that. After all, _he _didn't even know how it happened, much less _why_.

Even worse, he had Hilda to deal with. It seemed as though all of the past weeks' events had finally hit him; he was going to _marry _her. In a few weeks, she would be his _wife_. Imagine if she knew what he'd done with Hogan?

_What Hogan did to me_.

'Report!'

'Herr Kommandant, all prisoners are accounted for!' announced Schultz, beaming. Klink took little notice to the fat sergeant's prideful smile, his eyes felling back to Hogan. He had to speak with him, he had to _warn _him that whatever happened last night would _never happen again_.

_I should just have him shot. That would be the safest way. I should have him shot before he speaks._

But even Klink wasn't stupid enough to believe _that_. He wouldn't have Hogan shot, simple as that.

'Colonel Hogan,' he said finally, his chin high in the air. 'I want a word with you in my office.'

'_This _early in the morning?' Hogan sneered. Klink knew what he was implying. Frustrated, he turned, marching back to his office, Hogan following like a baby duckling.

'Oh, Herr Kommandant,' Hilda looked up from her paperwork, the moment Klink and Hogan stepped into the room. 'I just got a call from –'

'I'm sorry Fraulein Hilda it will have to wait.'

Klink slammed his office door, startling Hogan. Removing his hat, the American said,

'Gee, that wasn't very nice, sir. She is your future wife, after all!'

'That's even if I _live_ long enough to marry her!' Klink exhaled, dropping into his chair.

'You don't look so good, Colonel.'

'_Really now_? And I wonder why _that might be_?'

'Mmm, didn't sleep much? You know, drinking before bed can sometimes –'

'Hogan, don't play stupid with me. I'm not in the mood. Speak or I will have you shot.'

'Speak about what?'

'DON'T – PLAY – DUMB! WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVEN'T SLEPT?'

'Mmmm, wedding jitters?'

Klink swallowed hard. He was so _angry_, he could just grab Hogan round the throat and strangle him to death. It would feel so much more satisfying than watching him face the firing squad. He had to clam himself, for if he got any more worked up, he was likely to topple over from a heart attack.

And Hogan saw this. Deciding he had played it stupid long enough, he opened his mouth to speak.

'You don't _have _to talk about it, Kommandant. I can't even tell you why it happened. Maybe I am fucked up in the head, I don't know.'

Klink flinched at Hogan's profanity, surprised to hear such language from the younger air force Colonel. He knew Hogan had lied to him a fair bit over the past few years, but for some reason, Klink didn't think he was. Why would he lie about such a thing? Hogan was a sly, slippery character, but Klink was sure he wouldn't sink so low to doing what he _did _if he actually didn't want it.

'But I am the enemy, Hogan. I am _your _enemy. I'm a German, a _Kraut_, whatever you will call me behind my back. You aren't supposed to _like_ me.'

'Well I do, and I can't help it.'

'But I'm a _man_ Hogan, a _male_. You're not supposed to like _males_, you're supposed to like _girls_!'

'And I do like girls.'

'Then why…?'

'Look Colonel, I can't answer you,' Hogan forced his fingers through his black hair, obviously frustrated. 'I can't explain to you what's been going on in my head. And I don't expect you to care about it, anyway, even if I _could _explain it. Forget about it. Forget about whatever happened last night. Have me shot. Have me transferred. I don't care. But if you let me stay, I can't guarantee you I won't try it again.'

Klink knew he couldn't do any of those things to Hogan; not shoot him, not transfer him… What _could _he do? He didn't want Hogan hurt. He didn't want to report him. He just wished it would all go away, that none of it had ever happened. But staring at Hogan was an everyday reminder that something _had _happened.

'By the way sir, what was I, out of ten that is?'

'Out of ten what?'

'A score out of ten! Ten being the highest, zero being the lowest.'

'_A score for what_?'

'Last night!'

Klink flushed bright red; for a moment, he thought Hogan was talking normal. For a moment he _believed _Hogan had finally grasped the seriousness of their situation. Apparently not.

'Hogan as far as I am concerned, _last night _didn't happen!'

'Yeah yeah, but let's say it _did_ – out of ten?'

'Goodbye, Hogan!'

'Come on sir, I've never done something like that before! Need more practise, do I?'

'HOGAN WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING THIS!' Klink was redder than a tomato. Damn Hogan and his carefree American attitude. 'This is so wrong, on so many different levels! Do you know what would happen to me _and you _if anyone were to find out? We'd be lucky if we only got shot!'

'So we keep it as our little secret! A little moonlighting won't hurt, unless we _got _that far.'

'NO MOONLIGHTING!'

Klink suddenly fell silent; his door had opened. He was about to grouse, telling Schultz or whoever it was to go away, when his eyes met with Major Hochstetter's. Saluting the Gestapo Major, Klink's heart leapt into his throat. Hopefully, their conversation had gone unheard.

'Ah Major Hochstetter, what a pleasure to see you!'

'If only I could say the same,' Hochstetter rolled his eyes. Hogan suddenly felt his mouth dry up; what was Hochstetter doing here? And even _worse_, had his men gone to listen in on the coffee pot? Had they heard any of Klink and Hogan's conversation? His mind was already thinking up wild and unusual excuses. They hadn't talked about anything in detail…

'And what do I owe the Major for this surprise visit?'

'It is no surprise, Klink,' Hochstetter grumbled. 'I had one of my men phone your secretary ten minutes ago, informing you of my visit.'

'Oh, uh, yes of course, silly me, it must have slipped my mind!'

'Of course. Now – what is zis man doing here!?'

'Oh Colonel Hogan?' Klink fumbled. His nerves always went haywire when dealing with the Gestapo. Now, they were even _worse_. 'He was just leaving! Dismissed, Hogan!'

'Wait just a moment,' Hochstetter stopped Hogan's tracks. Hogan felt his undying dread was shared with Klink. After all, they had _both _committed a crime.

'Well I can hardly return the barracks with you blocking the doorway, now can I?'

'The only place _you _will be going, Colonel Hogan, will be to our Gestapo Head Quarters,' said Hochstetter, pacing around Hogan. Hogan's brow fell. What did they want _him _for?

'On what charge?'

'No charge, Colonel. We're just taking you for a friendly little ride in the countryside.'

'Yeah right and Himmler's my uncle,' Hogan rolled his eyes.

'Uh, Major Hochstetter, may I remind you that Hogan is _my _prisoner,' Klink began, his heart beating a thousand miles an hour. 'And he is in _my _prison camp!'

'You will get him back,' Hochstetter growled. 'Maybe.'

'Well if I'm you're going to arrest me, you can _at least _tell me what for!'

'We aren't _arresting _you, Colonel,' Hochstetter smiled, nastily. 'We are merely taking you in to ask a few _simple questions_. With your Kommandat's permission, of course.'

'Permission denied!' Klink thundered.

'Not that I needed it, anyway,' Hochstetter grumbled. He tilted his head once, silently ordering his two men dressed in black Gestapo uniforms to take Hogan back to their truck. Klink followed their lead, bouncing up and down like a nervous rabbit.

'General Burkhalter will hear about this!' he warned.

'I have already gotten the General's permission,' Hochstetter snapped, forcing Hogan into the back of his truck. 'And you will do well to comply with the Gestapo, _Klink_, otherwise the next time I see you, you will be laying in a coffin!'

Klink saluted Hochstetter immediately, but he was still in protest. What did they want with Hogan? Surely they couldn't have known about what happened… Then again, the Gestapo were even slimier than Hogan. But if they had known, wouldn't they have arrested Klink instead?

_No, no this has nothing to do with that. Hochstetter's obsessed with the idea that this camp is full of allied spies. He must just suspect Hogan of sabotage, like he always does. _

Klink watched in ultimate dread as Hochstetter's truck drove off, out of the camp and down the road. He didn't trust the Gestapo. He didn't even _like _the Gestapo. Their means of _questioning _could mean almost anything; Klink shuddered to think what they might put Hogan through. Then again, they had questioned Hogan and a number of the other prisoners a bunch of times, and they always came back alive. They wouldn't bump off Hogan. They _couldn't _bump off Hogan. He was too valuable to them. Too valuable to _Klink_.

'Hey, where are they taking the Colonel?' Newkirk stumbled out of the barracks, against Schultz's pleas. 'Those were Gestapo men!'

'I know _nothing_! Please, Newkirk, get back in the barracks –'

'They have no right, waltzing in here and taking the Colonel like that!' Carter barked, slipping under Schultz's beefy arms. Defeated, Schultz let out a monstrous groan, chasing after Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau and Kinch as they marched in the direction of Klink.

'What's going on?' LeBeau growled.

'Yeah, where are they taking Colonel Hogan?' Kinch demanded.

Klink cowered back, almost losing his nerve. He was just as angry as they were, but he was doing a pretty poor job of hiding it.

'I do not – that is none of your business! Back to the barracks, all of you, otherwise it will be thirty days in the cooler!'

'But we wanna know what they wanted with the Colonel!' Carter shouted.

'Just routine Gestapo questioning,' Klink fumbled, realising he had said too much. 'To the barracks, this instant! Schultz, take these four men back to the barracks and put them on report! Mmm-hmph!'

'Boy, I'd like to thump him one in the face –'

'Newkirk!' Schultz groused, waving about his fat hand. 'I will pretend I did not hear that!'

Schultz forced Hogan's men back into the barracks, shutting the door. Frustrated, fidgety and worried, the four men paced around their bunks, trying to figure out _why _the Gestapo wanted Hogan for questioning.

'That old Kraut, not an inch of human in his ridged old body. How can one man be so uncaring?'

'Because he is a Kraut, that's why,' said Kinch, 'why should he care if the Gestapo takes Colonel Hogan? All he'd worry about is his _perfect record in Berlin_.'

'But why did the Gestapo take him?' Carter asked. 'Why couldn't they just question him here?'

'Maybe they wanted him out of his comfort zone,' said LeBeau, pouring the three men a cup of coffee. 'Maybe to _spook _him.'

'Yeah, and I can think of a few other things too, mind you,' said Newkirk, puffing on a cigarette. 'If they wanna interrogate him at their _Head Quarters_, then I don't like the chances.'

'Why don't we bust him out of there?' Carter suggested. But he knew before he'd even spoke that his idea was useless.

'And what, bring him back here?' Kinch scoffed, in awe. 'Where the hell are your brains, man?'

'Hey just leave him be, alright Kinch?' Newkirk grumbled, his eyes purposely avoiding Carter's. 'We can't fight among ourselves. We've gotta work together.'

'It must be because of General Wolfgang,' said LeBeau, with a sigh, 'maybe they've somehow traced that tip off call back to here, figuring out that maybe _we _were the ones who helped get him out of Germany.'

'I don't like to admit it, but I think Louie is right,' said Newkirk, 'if they pin that on the Colonel, we're all as good as dead.'

'But how could they have found out it was us?' Carter asked aloud. 'We were so careful!'

'Maybe that Lulu bird cracked under interrogation,' shrugged Newkirk. 'No one's heard from her in a while. The Gestapo's probably rounded her up.'

'But why would she tell?' Carter looked crestfallen. 'I thought she was on our side?'

'Then obviously your knowledge of the Gestapo's _questioning _methods is next to nil,' Kinch rolled his eyes, his chin rested on his knuckles. 'They would have tortured it out of her.'

'_Tortured_?' Carter gulped. 'They'd really do all that for a bit of information?'

'What the hell do you think, Carter?' Kinch shook his head. 'Where the hell were you when they were handing out da brains?'

'Hey that's not very nice, Kinch –'

'Well then why don't you do us _all _a favour and shut your damn hole!'

'Hey sod off, Kinch!' Newkirk fired, banging his fist down on the wooden table (the vibrations knocking over Kinch's coffee, right onto his lap). 'Don't talk to Andrew like that!'

'He's a damned moron! Anyone could figure that out!'

'Insult him again and you'll have a date with my fist!'

'What the hell are you getting your back up for?' Kinch growled. 'You're always telling him he's a moron! You tell him that more than any of us!'

'There's a difference between joking and insulting, _James_! Now back off! Go back and play with your _radio_! Go pretend to feel _important_!'

'Hey I oughta –'

'Stop it, the both of you!' LeBeau shouted, waving his wooden spoon about in the air. Kinch reluctantly let go of Newkirk's collar. 'Shame on you two! The Colonel is probably scared out of his wits, sitting there in the back of that truck, and what are you two doing? Arguing like a couple of (LeBeau said a few words in French that Carter, Newkirk and Kinch weren't familiar with). Shame on you!'

'Alright, alright,' Newkirk exhaled, tapping the end of his cigarette. 'We've got to settle. We've got to figure something out.'

Kinch disappeared into the tunnels ten minutes later with LeBeau, eager to notify London of their situation, and what they should do. They agreed that Carter would probe Schultz for information, and Newkirk would stay in Hogan's office, listening in to Klink's office in case something of importance was said.

Carter looked back over his shoulder before exiting the barracks, spying Newkirk. Newkirk looked up, catching Carter's eyes.

'Get that ruddy grin off your face,' Newkirk growled, hiding his burning cheeks.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

The pressure in Hogan's chest was unimaginable. He was nervous, but he tried to remain calm, reminding himself it was probably just a routine questioning. Hogan had already figured it would involve Wolfgang's disappearance, and the phoney tip off. If the Gestapo had been smart enough to trace the call back to his barracks, then he was in deep trouble. He remembered the look on Klink's face when they had taken him, trying to distinguish his feelings. He was half annoyed, half amused. Klink had looked so guilty, trying so desperately to keep the Gestapo from taking him. Would Hochstetter look upon this with suspicion? Then again, probably not, for Klink's behaviour meant little to the Major. He merely thought of him as a complete and utter idiot. Maybe Klink was genuinely concerned for Hogan's safety.

_Then again, he's probably worried I'll dob him in, selfish bastard. _

Hogan had no idea where they were going, for they had blind folded him. The road was bumpy, the air cold. He was jammed in the back of the truck with several other Gestapo men, breathing down his neck, their guns aimed for any sudden leap of freedom. Hogan was cramped up in a corner, his knees beneath his chin. He was quite uncomfortable, indeed.

The ride had lasted for about an hour and a half, Hogan calculated. Once the truck came to a stop, the men piled out of the car, roughly taking the American Colonel with them.

His blind fold wasn't removed until he was inside a dark, dingy room, his hands handcuffed behind the chair he was seated on. There wasn't much light, only that of the lamp, but Hogan had been blind folded for so long, even that stung his eyes. Squinting, Hogan saw four men, each draped in the ghastly Gestapo uniform. Though, he was a little confused when he recognised none of them to be Hochstetter.

'… Is this how you treat all your guests?'

'So you are _Colonel Hogan_,' said the man, the number of stripes on his shoulders indicating he was in fact a Colonel. His pinching eyes gave Hogan an unnerving feeling; he wasn't going to mess about. He was going to be downright serious. 'I am very pleased to meet you.'

'Charmed,' Hogan muttered.

'You enjoyed the car ride, I hope?'

'Oh it was _delightful_.'

'My men were of a good service to you?'

'Look just cut the crap,' Hogan mumbled. 'Why am I here?'

'Tsk tsk, Colonel, that isn't the proper way to address a German officer! I would expect a little more of your manners. After all, you _have _been confined to a POW camp for quite sometime now. You should know what us German officers expect of you.'

'Yeah sure,' Hogan rolled his eyes. 'Who are you again?'

'Colonel Adalwine,' said the officer, this thin lips curling. 'I am sorry, Colonel Hogan, but your manners are a little rusty.'

'Just get to the point,' Hogan snapped. 'I haven't got all day, you know. There's a war on!'

SNAP!

Hogan didn't see it coming; Colonel Adalwine had slapped him fair across the face with his black leather gloves. The pain was so sharp, so pinching. The side of Hogan's face throbbed, the large red blemish noticeable, even in the darkness of the room. At this moment, he realised he couldn't play around with Colonel Adalwine.

'There,' Adalwine smirked, caressing his gloves. 'Now, you will cooperate, yes?'

Hogan nodded grimly, hatred gushing through his veins. He was powerless against this creep, handcuffed to the chair. He was helpless. He had to comply, or else.

'How long have you been at Stalag 13?'

'Three years or so,' said Hogan.

'An _awful _long time to remain in a POW camp, yes?'

'Perhaps.'

'Not one single successful escape?'

'Colonel Klink _is _the Kommandant. He makes escaping impossible.'

'Ahuh, is that so. But you _would _think that a man of _your _intelligence would have figured out a way to escape by _now_, yes?'

'Maybe I'm not as intelligent as you think, _Colonel _Adalwine.'

SNAP!

Hogan winced; the force behind Adalwine's slap was incredible. His face was riddled with pain. He had hit him in the same spot as before, intensifying it. Hogan wanted to break out of that chair, grab those leather gloves and shove them down Adalwine's throat. But he couldn't. He had to control himself. He couldn't show weakness this early in the interrogation.

'Now, let us try again. _Why _haven't you escaped, Colonel Hogan?'

'I've tried,' Hogan said, 'I might have been an excellent flyer, but that doesn't mean I'm an expert at breaking out of POW's.'

'There has been a lot of unexplained sabotage around the area of Stalag 13… Can you explain that, Colonel? You wouldn't have anything to do with it, would you?'

'Of course I don't,' Hogan growled, 'I'm just a prisoner of war. An American flyer. What the hell would I know about sabotage?'

SNAP!

Hogan let out a moan this time, his face numb with pain. Something daunted on him; this was only the beginning.

'Alright, I think that will do for today,' said Colonel Adalwine, placing his gloves on. 'Take him to his cell. We will continue tomorrow evening.'

'What?' Hogan spat. 'Tomorrow? Why can't you just finish asking me the questions now!'

'Hans, take him to his cell.'

The three Gestapo men forced Hogan from the chair, their grips unkindly and rough.

'Oh, Colonel Hogan, one more thing.'

Hogan turned, expecting some _witty _stand up line from the despicable Gestapo Colonel, but received something much different. Something much more painful.

THUMP!

Adalwine threw a hard punch at Hogan's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Gasping for air, Hogan's knees weakened. Adalwine merely smiled.

'I _do _hope you make a few adjustments to your attitude before we meet again, yes?'

Hogan was too preoccupied resisting the urge to heave to take notice to Adalwine's nasty sneer. He didn't even have the energy to feel angry. Weak from pain, Hogan allowed the rough Gestapo guards to haul him off to his cell. Thinking of his men, praying they wouldn't do anything irrational, Hogan stumbled into the cold, damp cell, the guards locking the iron bared door behind him. They were chatting in German, and although Hogan couldn't understand the language, he got the nasty feeling whatever they were saying wasn't too nice.

**(SCENE CHANGE)**

On the fourth day after Hogan's departure, Klink was beginning to sound desperate, especially to General Burkhalter, who was tiring of telling the Kommandant that nothing he could do would make the Gestapo release Hogan any sooner.

'But Herr General –'

'Klink!' Burkhalter barked, from the other side of the phone. 'I have already told you a thousand times! I cannot _do _anything! How many times do I have to tell you? I do not want the Gestapo on my back, so shut up and comply with their wishes! If you disturb me again, I will have you shot!'

SLAM!

Klink winced, slowly resting down the receiver. Such feelings of desperation he had never felt before gushed through his veins. _He _wasn't even sure _why _he felt so strongly on this matter. Was he worried Hogan would spill the questionable _relationship _between himself and the Kommandant? Or was it because of the principle? That the Gestapo had taken one of his prisoners without his permission, do question him and do god knows what? Klink shuddered; it had to be one of those options. It _certainly _wasn't option three; Klink wasn't genuinely _worried _for Hogan or anything. Of course not. What nonsense! Those evil Gestapo guards could do what they liked with him, Klink didn't care!

But that wasn't true. Of course he cared about Hogan. He could deny it a million times over, but that wouldn't change the fact. Hogan had been the only thing on Klink's mind since the Gestapo carted him off four days ago. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep; he was even having a difficult time shadowing his true emotions from the other staff members and prisoners. Why, if they ever _knew_… What would they say? What would someone like Schultz say if he knew Hogan's hands had pleasured him? And even _worse, _Klink had enjoyed it!

But their sexual encounter was hidden in the back of Klink's mind. No, all he cared about was getting Hogan back to Stalag 13, limbs intact.

But how? What was he to do? He was only a Luftwaffe Colonel after all. He had no power over the Gestapo. They could do what they pleased, _when _they pleased. Still, he just couldn't sit there, panicking over a thousand scenarios that probably weren't true. He hoped.

'Mien Kommandant?'

Klink jumped; he had been so lost in thought that he'd almost forgotten he was sitting in his office. He looked up, squinting through his monocle to Hilda, her dark eyelashes battering down at him.

'Are you feeling alright? You look terrible.'

'Me? Oh, I am fine,' he waved his hand, 'everything is fine.'

'Then, you haven't heard any word on Colonel Hogan?'

'Everything is under control, dear Fraulein,' Klink waffled on. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. His cheeks were burning with guilt. How could he face her, with eyes so full with concern? He could feel her eyes watching him, piercing his skin like needles. Image what _Hilda _would think, if she knew what Hogan and Klink had done? He shuddered; no, she wasn't a mind reader. There was no way she could ever find out. No one would ever know.

'You seem very worried, Kommandant,' Hilda pressed on, leaning down to Klink's side. She placed her hand upon his knees, brushing her fingers across his warm face. 'Are you sure you're alright?'

'Fine, Hilda, fine.'

Why was she so prying? Why wouldn't she just leave it be? Did she know something? Had she _seen _something? Could she read the guilt clearly plastered across Klink's obvious face? No, of course she couldn't; Klink was just being paranoid. She was just being the concerned fiancée, that was all. After all, it wasn't as though _she _didn't care for Hogan, too. He had been part of their _happy family _for three years now. How _couldn't _she be worried about him?

'It's the principle, Hilda,' Klink forced himself to say, after a long pause of silence, 'those Gestapo men just can't _waltz _in and take _my _prisoners! And they would not even tell me _why_! I am not going to be the underdog who always gets stepped on! I am going to stand up for my rights and duty as Kommandant of this camp!'

They were strong words, yes, but empty. Klink was just as petrified as he was clueless. What was _he _going to do? Little Kommandant Klink, up against the entire Gestapo? He would be shot for sure.

'I am sure they will return him, once they have finished questioning him,' said Hilda, in an air of confidence. 'After all, I am positive Colonel Hogan has nothing to hide. I must be getting back to my desk, but please, _Wilhelm_, if there is anything I can do for you… Don't hesitate to ask.'

She pecked his cheek, caressing his neck with her gentle fingers before leaving Klink to stew in his own worries. Hilda was so lovely, so elegant, so beautiful. A perfect German wife. Fit for the Fuhrer himself. The only problem was, Klink wasn't thinking of her. He was thinking of Hogan.

**There we go guys! I hope you enjoyed reading another chapter again at last! Drop a review for us if you liked it and are still interested in this fanfic! There will be plenty more updates if everyone is still wanting them! It will get very juicy I promise! Thanks guys! Tell us what you think!**


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